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LI£?>ARY 

lWTVEi.S!TY  OF 
CAttPORNIA 

SAN  Diceo 


\      IN*. 

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that  nave  toeen  referred  to  us:  We  flncl  the 
luithorof  The  SkmighrauH  was  born -111  Dublin. 
Ireland  on  the  26th  December,  1822,  and  13.  there- 
tore  52  yeai-s  old.  In  1841,  when  In  lits  ulnetecnih 
jear  he  published  his  first  comedy,  Loudon  As- 
t'lrance,  and  its  lltlc  page  reads : 

"London  A'^subance:  A  comedy  in  live  acts,  by 
jjjonBoucicault.    London,  1841." 

lie  married,  in  1S52,  Agnes  Robertson,  then  an 
obscure  actress.  They  came  to  the  United  stales 
in  1S33  resided  here  tor  some  years,  returned  to 
England  in  1860 ;  came  back  to  this  country  in 
1872.  During  this  period  of  thirty-four  years,  Mr. 
Bouclcault  has  bceoStho  most  laborious  and 
mcst  successlul  of  the  literary  men  of  the  day. 
He  has  ^Yritten  upwards  of  lour  hundred  come- 
dies and  plays.  IJecent  law  proceedings  in  Eng- 
land revealed  the  fact  that  he  settled  in  18G0,  on 
Ids  wife,  an  estate  repre-entlng  the  amount  of 
her  professional  earnings.  Colonel  Forney  has 
described  the  mansion  in  London  where  Mrs. 
EoucicauU,  suiTOunded  by  her  family,  dispenses 
hospitality,  while  the  busy  B.  buzzes  round  the 
rnited  States,  storing  the  hive  at  the  rate  of 
SI 50  000  a  vear.  Mr.  Wallack  is  said  to  have  paid 
him  $110,000  for  a  six  months'  engagement  in  New 
York  this  year,  and  the  Boston  Theatre  gave  Mtn 
$29,000,  for  four  weeks,  according  to  tlie  XewYork 
Hcmla.    Mr.  Bouclcault  is  the  author  of  i{?>  Van 

V'rnkle,  to  which  Mr.  Jefferson  owes  his  large 
fortune,  and  also  of  The  streets  of  Xew  I'ork  that 
Frank  Mavo  calls  his  bonanza.  Harper's  WcckUi 
estimated  the  gross  protits  of  Mr.  Bouelcaulfs 
four  hundred  clays  to  have  been  nearly  ten  mill- 
jons  of  dollars. 


FOUL  p  lay: 


CHARLES     READE 


DION    BOUCICAULT. 


HOUSEHOLD  EDITION. 


BOSTON: 

FIELDS,     OSGOOD,     &     CO., 

SUCCESSORS   TO   TICKNOR    AND    FIELDS. 
1869. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1868,  by 
TICKNOR    AND    FIELDS, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


University  Press  :  Welch,  Bigelow,  &  Co., 
Cambridge. 


FOUL    PLAY. 


CHAPTER  L 

THERE  are  places  which  appear 
at  first  sight  inaccessible  to  ro- 
mance; and  snch  a  place  was  Mr. 
"Wardlaw's  dining-room  in  Russell 
Square.  It  was  very  large,  had  sickly 
green  walls,  picked  out  witli  aldermen, 
full  length  ;  heavy  maroon  curtains  ; 
mahogany  chairs  ;  a  turkey  carpet  an 
inch  thick  :  and  was  lighted  with  wax 
candles  only. 

In  the  centre,  bristling  and  gleam- 
ing with  silver  and  glass,  was  a  round 
table,  at  which  fourteen  could  have 
dined  comfortably;  and  at  opposite 
sides  of  this  table  sat  two  gentlemen, 
who  looked  as  neat,  grave,  precise, 
and  unromantic,  as  the  place ;  Mer- 
chant Wardlaw  and  his  son. 

Wardlaw  senior  was  an  elderly  man, 
tall,  thin,  iron-gray,  with  a  round 
head,  a  short,  thick  neck,  a  good, 
brown  eye,  a  square  jowl  that  beto- 
kened resolution,  and  a  complexion  so 
sallow  as  to  be  almost  cadaverous. 
Hard  as  iron  :  but  a  certain  stiff  dig- 
nity and  respectability  sat  ujwn  him, 
and  became  him. 

Arthur  Wardlaw  resembled  his 
father  in  figure,  but  his  mother  in 
face.  He  had,  and  has,  hay-colored 
hair,  a  forehead  singularly  white  and 
delicate,  pale  blue  eyes,  largish  ears, 
finely  chiselled  features,  the  under  lip 
much  shorter  than  the  upper ;  his 
chin  oval, and  pretty,  but  somewhat 
receding  ;  his  complexion  beautiful. 
In  short,  what  nineteen  people  out  of 
twenty  would  call  a  handsome  young 
man,  and  think  they  had  described  him. 


Both  the  Wardlaws  were  in  ftill 
dress,  according  to  the  invariable  cus- 
tom of  the  house  ;  and  sat  in  a  dead 
silence,  that  seemed  natural  to  the 
great,  sober  room. 

This,  however,  was  not  for  want  of 
a  topic  ;  on  the  contrary,  they  had  a 
matter  of  great  importance  to  discuss, 
and  in  fact  this  was  why  they  dined 
tete-a-tete:  but  their  tongues  were  tied 
for  the  present ;  in  the  first  place, 
there  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  table 
an  epergne,  the  size  of  a  Putney  lau- 
rel-tree ;  neither  Wardlaw  could  well 
see  the  other,  without  ci'aning  out  his 
neck  like  a  rifleman  from  behind  his 
tree  ;  and  then  there  were  three  live 
suppressors  of  confidential  intercourse, 
two  gorgeous  footmen,  and  a  sombre, 
sublime,  and,  in  one  word,  episcopal, 
butler ;  all  three  went  about  as  softly 
as  cats  after  a  robin,  and  conjured  one 
plate  away,  and  smoothly  insinuated 
another,  and  seemed  models  of  grave 
discretion  :  but  were  known  to  be  all 
ears,  and  bound  by  a  secret  oath  to 
carry  down  each  crumb  of  dialogue  to 
the  servants'  hall,  for  curious  dissec- 
tion, and  boisterous  ridicule. 

At  last,  however,  those  thi'ee  smug 
hypocrites  retired,  and,  by  good  luck, 
transferred  their  suffocating  epergne 
to  the  sideboard ;  so  then  father  and 
son  looked  at  one  another  with  that 
conscious  air  which  naturally  precedes 
a  topic  of  interest ;  and  Wardlaw 
senior  invited  liis  son  to  try  a  certain 
decanter  of  rare  old  port,  by  way  of 
preliminary. 

While  the  young  man  fills  his  glass, 
hurl  we  in  his  antecedents. 


FOUL  PLAY. 


At  school  till  fifteen,  and  then  clerk 
in  his  father's  otHce  till  twenty-two, 
and  sliowod  an  aptitude  so  reniarl<.al)le, 
that  Jolin  Wardlaw,  who  was  getting 
tired,  determined,  sooner  or  later,  to 
put  the  reins  of  government  into  his 
hands.      But   he  conceived   a  desire 
that  the    future    head  of   his   office 
should  be  an  university  man.     80  he 
announced  his  resolution,  and  to  Ox- 
ford went  young  Wardlaw,  though  he 
had  not  looked  at  Greek  or  Latin  for 
seven  years.     He  ^\■as,  however,  fur- 
nished with   a  private   tutor,  under 
wiiom  he  recovered  lost  ground  ra])id- 
ly.      The  Reverend  Robert  Penfold 
was  a  first-class  man,  and  had    the 
gift  of  teaching.    The  house  of  Ward- 
law  had  peculiar  claims  on  him,  for 
he  was  the  son  of  old  Michael  Penfold, 
AVai-dlaw's  cashier;  he  learned  from 
young    Wardlaw   the   stake   he  was 
playing  for,  and,   instead  of  merely 
giving  liim  one  hour's  lecture  per  day, 
as  he  did  to  his  other  pupils,  he  used 
to  come  to  his  rooms  at  all  hours,  and 
force  him  to  read,  by  reading  with 
him.     He  also  stood  his  friend  in  a 
serious  emergency.    Young  Wardlaw, 
you  must  know,  was  blessed  or  cursed 
with   Mimicry;    his   powers  in   that 
way  really  seemed  to  have  no  limit, 
for  he  could  imitate  any  sound  you 
liked  with  his  voice,   and  any  form 
with   his   pen   or  pencil.     Now,   we 
promise  you,  he  was  one  man  under 
his  father's  eye,  and  another  down  at 
Oxford ;    so,  one  night,  this  gentle- 
man, being  warm  with  wine,  opens 
his  window,  and,  seeing  a  group  of 
undergraduates  chattering  and  smok- 
ing  in   the  quadrangle,  imitates  the 
peculiar  grating  tones  of  Mr.  Cham- 
pion, vice-president  of  the  college,  and 
gives  them  various  reasons  why  they 
ouirht  to  disperse  to  their  rooms  and 
study.     "  But,  perhaps,"  says  lie,  in 
conclusion,  "you  are  too  blind  drunlc 
to  read    Bosh  in  crooked   letters  by 
candle-light  1    In  that  case  —  "   And 
he  tiien  gave  them  some  very  naughty 
advice  how  to  pass  tl'e  evening ;  still 
in  the  exact  tones  of  Mr.  C]iam])ion, 
who  was  a  very,  very  strict  moralist ; 


and  this  unexpected  sally  of  wit 
caused  shrieks  of  laughter,  and  might- 
ily tickled  all  tiic  hearers,  except 
Champion  qjse,  who  was  listening 
and  disapproving  at  another  window. 
He  complained  to  the  ]jresident. 
Then  the  ingenious  Wardlaw,  not 
having  come  down  to  us  in  a  direct 
line  from  Bayard,  committed  a  great 
mistake,  — he  denied  it. 

It  was  bi'ought  home  to  him,  and 
the  president,  who  had  laughed  in  his 
sleeve  at  the  practical  joke,  looked 
very  grave  at  the  falsehood ;  Rustica- 
tion was  talked  of  and  even  Expul- 
sion. Then  A^'ardlaw  came  sorrow- 
fully to  Penfold,  and  said  to  him,  "  I 
must  have  been  awfully  cut,  for  I 
don't  remember  all  that ;  I  had  been 
wining  at  Christchurch.  1  do  re- 
member slanging  the  fellows,  but  how 
can  I  tell  what  I  said  ?  I  say,  old 
fellow,  it  will  be  a  bad  job  for  me  if 
they  expel  me,  or  even  rusticate  me  ; 
my  father  will  never  forgive  me ;  I 
shall  be  his  clerk,  but  never  his  part- 
ner ;  and  then  he  will  find  out  what  a 
lut  1  owe  down  here.  I  'm  done  for  ! 
1  'm  done  for !  " 

Penfold  uttered  not  a  word,  but 
grasped  his  hand,  and  went  off  to  the 
president,  and  said  his  pupil  had 
wined  at  Christchurch,  and  could  not 
be  expected  to  remember  minutely. 
Mimicry  was,  unfortunately,  a  habit 
with  him.  He  then  pleaded  for  the 
milder  construction,  with  such  zeal 
and  eloquence,  that  the  high-minded 
scholar  he  was  addressing  admitted 
that  construction  was  possible,  and 
therefore  must  be  received.  So  the 
afiair  ended  in  a  ^^•ritten  a])ology  to 
Mr.  Champion,  which  had  all  the 
smoothness  and  neatness  of  a  mer- 
chant's letter.  Arthur  Wardlaw  was 
already  a  master  in  that  style. 

Six  months  after  this,  and  one  fort- 
night before  tlic  actual  commence- 
ment of  our  talc,  Artliur  Wardlaw, 
well  crammed  by  Penfold,  went  up 
for  his  final  examination,  tln-obbing 
with  anxiety.  He  jiasscd;  and  was 
so  grateful  to  his  tutor  that,  when  the 
advowson  of  a  small  living  near  Ox- 


FOUL  PLAY. 


ford  came  into  the  market,  he  asked 
Wardlaw  senior  to  lend  Robert  Pen- 
fold  a  sum  of  money,  much  more  than 
was  needed  :  and  ^Vardla^v  senior  de- 
clined without  a  moment's  hesitation. 
This  slight  sketch  will  serve  as  a 
key  to  the  dialogue  it  has  postjioned, 
and  to  subsequent  incidents. 

"  "Well,  Arthur,  and  so  you  have 
really  taken  your  degree  "?  " 

"  No,  sir ;'  but  I  have  passed  my 
examination  :  the  degree  follows  as  a 
matter  of  course,  —  that  is  a  mere 
question  of  fees." 

"  Oh !  Then  now  I  have  some- 
thing to  say  to  you.  Try  one  more 
glass  of  the  '47 'port.  Stop;  you'll 
excuse  me  ;  I  am  a  man  of  business  ; 
I  don't  doubt  your  word;  Heaven 
forbid  !  but,  do  you  happen  to  have 
any  document  you  can  produce  in 
further  confirmation  of  what  you 
state ;  namely,  that  you  have  passed 
your  final  examination  at  the  Univer- 
sity ?  " 

"  Certainly,  sir  " ;  replied  young 
"Wardlaw.     "  My  Testamur." 

"  What  is  that  ?  " 

The  young  gentleman  put  his  hand 
in  his  pocket,  and  produced  his  Testa- 
mur, or  "  We  bear  witness  "  ;  a  short 
printed  document  in  Latin,  which 
may  be  thus  translated :  — 

"  Wehear  witness  that  Arthur  Ward- 
law,  of  St.  Luke's  College,  has  answered 
our  questions  in  humane  letters. 

"  George  Richardson, 
"Arthur  Smythe, 
"  Edward  Meria'ale, 

"  Examiners." 

"Wardlaw  senior  took  it,  laid  it  be- 
side him  on  the  table,  inspected  it 
with  his  double  eye-glass,  and,  not 
knowing  a  word  of  Latin,  was  might- 
ily impressed,  and  his  respect  for  his 
son  rose  40  or  45  per  cent. 

"  Very  well,  sir,"  said  he.  "  Now 
listen  to  me.  Perhaps  it  was  an  old 
man's  fancy ;  but  I  have  often  seen 
in  the  world  what  a  stamp  these  Uni- 
versities put  upon  a  man.     To  send 


you  back  from  commerce  to  Latin 
and  Greek,  at  two  and-twenty,  was 
trying  you  rather  hard ;  it  was  trying 
you  doubly ;  your  obedience,  and 
your  ability  into  the  bargain.  Well, 
sir,  you  have  stood  the  trial,  and  I  am 
proud  of  you.  And  so  now  it  is  my 
turn :  from  this  day  and  from  this 
hour,  look  on  yourself  as  my  partner 
in  the  old-established  house  of  Ward- 
law.  My  balance-sheet  shall  be  pre- 
pared immediately,  and  the  partner- 
ship deed  drawn.  You  will  enter  on 
a  flourishing  concern,  sir ;  and  you 
will  virtually  conduct  it,  in  written 
communication  with  me ;  for  I  have 
had  five-and-forty  years  of  it :  and 
then  my  liver,  you  know !  "Watson 
advises  me  strongly  to  leave  my  desk, 
and  try  country  air,  and  rest  from 
business  and  its  cares." 

He  paused  a  moment ;  and  the 
young  man  drew  a  long  breath,  like 
one  who  was  in  the  act  of  being  re- 
lieved of  some  terrible  weight. 

As  for  the  old  gentleman,  he  was 
not  observing  his  son  just  then,  but 
thinking  of  his  own  career  ;  a  certain 
expression  of  pain  and  regret  came 
over  his  features ;  but  he  shook  it  off 
with  manly  dignity.  "  Come,  come," 
said  he,  "  this  is  the  law  of  Nature, 
and  must  be  svibmitted  to  with  a  good 
grace.  "Wardlaw  junior,  fill  your 
glass."  At  the  same  time  he  stood 
up  and  said,  stoutly,  "  The  setting 
sun  drinks  to  the  rising  sun  "  ;  but 
could  not  maintain  that  artificial 
style,  and  ended  with,  "  God  bless 
you,  my  boy,  and  may  you  stick  to 
business  ;  avoid  speculation,  as  I  have 
done ;  and  so  hand  the  concern  down 
healthy  to  your  son,  as  my  father 
there  (pointing  to  a  picture)  handed 
it  down  to  me,  and  I  to  you." 

His  voice  wavered  slightly  in  utter- 
ing this  benediction ;  but  onh'  for  a 
moment :  he  then  sat  quietly,  down, 
and  sipped  his  wine  composedly. 

Not  so  the  other :  his  color  came 
and  went  violently  all  the  time  his 
father  was  speaking,  and,  when  he 
ceased,  he  sank  into  his  cliair  with 
another  sigh  deeper  than  the  last,  and 


FOUL  PLAY. 


two  half-hysterical  tears  came  to  his 
pale  eyes. 

But  presently,  feeling  he  was  ex- 
pected to  say  something,  he  struggled 
against  all  this  mysterious  emotion, 
and  faltered  out  that  he  should  not 
fear  the  responsibility^  if  he  might 
have  constant  recourse  to  his  father 
for  advice. 

"  Why,  of  course,"  was  the  reply. 
"  My  country  house  is  but  a  mile 
from  the  station :  yovi  can  telegraph 
for  me  in  any  ease  of  importance." 

"  When  would  you  wish  me  to 
commence  my  new  duties  ?  " 

"  Let  me  see,  it  will  take  six  weeks 
to  prepare  a  balance-sheet,  such  as 
I  could  be  content  to  submit  to 
an  incoming  partner.  Say  two 
months." 

Young  Wardlaw's  countenance  fell. 

"  Meantime  you  shall  travel  on  the 
Continent  and  enjoy  yourself." 

"  Tliank  you,"  said  young  Wai-d- 
law,  mechanically,  and  fell  into  a 
brown  study. 

The  room  now  returned  to  what 
seemed  its  natural  state.  And  its 
silence  continued  until  it  was  broken 
from  without. 

A  sharp  knocking  was  heard  at  the 
street  door,  and  I'esounded  across  the 
marble  hall. 

The  Wardlaws  looked  at  one  anoth- 
er in  some  little  surprise. 

"  I  have  invited  nobody,"  said  the 
elder. 

Some  time  elapsed,  and  then  a 
footman  made  his  appearance,  and 
brought  in  a  card. 

"  Mr.  Clnistopher  Adams." 

Now  that  Mr.  Christopher  Adams 
should  call  on  John  Wardlaw,  in  his 
private  room,  at  nine  o'clock  in  the 
evening,  seemed  to  that  merchant 
irregular,  presumptuous,  and  mon- 
strous. "  Tell  him  he  will  find  me 
at  my  place  of  business  to-morrow,  as 
usual,"  said  he,  knitting  his  brows. 

The  footman  went  oft"  with  this 
message  ;  and,  soon  after,  raised 
voices  were  heard  in  the  hall,  and  the 
episcopal  butler  entered  the  room 
with  an  injured  countenance. 


"  He  says  he  must  see  you ;  he  is 
in  great  anxiety." 

"  Yes,  I  am  in  great  anxiety,"  said 
a  quavering  voice  at  his  elbow  ;  and 
Mr.  Adams  actually  pushed  by  the 
butler,  and  stood,  hat  in  hand,  in 
those  sacred  precincts.  "  I'ray  excuse 
me,  sir,"  said  he,  "  but  it  is  very  se- 
rious ;  I  can't  be  easy  in  my  liiind 
till  I  have  put  you  a  question." 

"This  is  very  extraordinary  con- 
duct, sir,"  said  Mr.  Wardlaw.  "  Do 
you  think  I  do  business  here,  and  at 
all  hours  1 " 

"  O  no,  sir  :  it  is  my  own  business. 
I  am  come  to  ask  you  a  very  serious 
question.  I  could  n't  wait  till  morn- 
ing with  such  a  doubt  on  my  mind." 
"  Well,  sir,  I  repeat  this  is  irreg- 
ular and  extraordmary  ;  but  as  you 
are  here,  pray  what  is  the  matter  ?  " 
He  then  dismissed  the  lingering  butler 
with  a  look.  Mr.  Adams  cast  uneasy 
glances  on  young  Wardlaw. 

"  O,"  said  the  elder,  "  you  can 
speak  before  him.  Tiiis  is  my  part- 
ner; that  is  to  say,  he  will  be  as  soon 
as  the  balance-sheet  can  be  prejjared, 
and  the  deed  drawn.  Wardlaw  jun- 
ior, this  is  Mr.  Adams,  a  very  re- 
spectable bill  discounter." 

The  two  men  bowed  to  each  other, 
and  Arthur  Wardlaw  sat  down  mo- 
tionless. 

"  Sir,  did  you  draw  a  note  of  hand 
to-day  1 "  inquired  Adams  of  tiie  eld- 
er merchant. 

"  I  dare  say  I  did.  Did  you  dis- 
count one  signed  by  me  ?  " 
"  Yes,  sir,  we  did." 
"  Well,  sir,  you  have  only  to  pre- 
sent it  at  maturity.  Wardlaw  and 
Son  will  provide  for  it,  I  dare  say." 
This  with  the  lofty  nonchalance  of  a 
rich  man,  who  hud  never  broken  an 
engagement  in  his  life. 

"Ah,   that   I   know  they  will  if  it 
is  all  right ;  but  suppose  it  is  not  ''■ " 
"  What  d'  ye  mean  1 "  asked  Ward- 
law,  with  some  astonishment. 

"  O,  nothing,  sir  !  It  bears  your 
signature,  that  is  good  for  twenty 
times  the  amount ;  and  it  is  indorsed 
by  your  cashier.     Only  what  makes 


FOUL  PLAY. 


me  a  little  uneasj',  your  bills  used  to 
be  always  on  your  own  forms,  and  so 
I  told  my  partner  ;  he  discounted  it. 
Gentlemen,  I  wish  you  would  just 
look  at  it." 

"  Of  course  we  will  look  at  it. 
Show  it  Arthur  first ;  his  eyes  are 
younger  than  mine." 

Mr.  Adams  took  out  a  large  bill- 
book,  extracted  the  note  of  hand, 
and  passed  it  across  the  table  to 
Wardlaw  junior.  lie  took  it  up  with 
a  sort  of  shiver,  and  bent  his  head 
very  low  over  it ;  then  handed  it 
back  in  silence. 

Adams  look  it  to  Wardlaw  senior, 
and  laid  it  before  him,  by  the  side  of 
Arthur's  Testamur. 

The  merchant  inspected  it  with  his 
glasses. 

"  The   writing  is   mine,   apparent- 

"  I  am  very  glad  of  it,"  said  the 
bill-broker,  eagerly. 

"  Stop  a  bit,"  said  Mr.  Wardlaw. 
"  Why,  what  is  this  ?  For  two  thou- 
sand pounds  !  and,  as  you  say,  not 
my  form.  I  have  signed  no  note  for 
two  thousand  pounds  this  week. 
Dated  yesterday.  You  have  not 
cashed  it,  I  hope  1 " 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say  my  partner 
has." 

"  Well,  sir,  not  to  keep  you  in  sus- 
pense, the  thing  is  not  worth  the 
stamp  it  is  written  on." 

"  Mr.  Wardlaw  !  —  Sir  !  —  Good 
heavens  !  Then  it  is  as  I  feared.  It 
is  a  forgery." 

"  I  should  be  puzzled  to  find  any 
other  name  for  it.  You  need  not 
look  so  pale,  Arthui*.  We  can't 
help  some  clever  scoundrel  imitating 
our  hands  ;  and  as  for  you,  Adams, 
you  ought  to  have  been  more  cau- 
tious." 

"  But,  sir,  your  cashier's  name  is 
Penfold,"  faltered  the  holder,  cling- 
ing to  a  straw.  "  May  he  not  have 
drawn  —  is  the  indorsement  forged 
as  well  1  " 

Mr.  AVardlaw  examined  the  back 
of  the  bill,  and  looked  puzzled. 
"  Xo,"  said  he.     "  My  cashier's  name 


is  Michael  Penfold,  but  this  is  in- 
dorsed '  Robert  Penfold.'  Do  you 
hear,  Arthur  1  Why,  what  is  the 
matter  with  you  ?  You  look  like  a 
ghost.  I  say  there  is  your  tutor's 
name  at  the  back  of  this  forged  note. 
This  is  very  strange.  Just  look,  and 
tell  me  who  wrote  these  two  words 
'  Robert  Penfold  '  ^  " 

Young  Wardlaw  took  the  docu- 
ment, and  tried  to  examine  it  calmly, 
but  it  shook  visibly  in  his  hand,  and 
a  cold  moisture  gathered  on  his  brow. 
His  pale  eyes  roved  to  and  fro  in  a 
very  remarkable  way  ;  and  he  was  so 
long  before  he  said  anything,  that 
both  the  other  persons  jDresent  began 
to  eye  him  with  wonder. 

At  last  he  faltered  out,  "This 
'  Robert  Penfold '  seems  to  me  very 
like  his  own  handwriting.  But  then 
the  rest  of  the  writing  is  equally  like 
yours,  sir.  I  am  su:-e  Robert  Pen- 
fold  never  did  anything  wrong.  Mr. 
Adams,  please  oblige  vie.  Let  this 
go  no  further  till  1  have  seen  him, 
and  asked  him  whether  he  indorsed 
it." 

"  Now  don't  you  be  in  a  hurry," 
said  the  elder  Wardlaw.  "  The  first 
question  is,  who  received  the  mon- 
ey?" 

Mr.  Adams  replied  that  it  was  a 
respectable  -  looking  man,  a  young 
clergyman. 

"  Ah ! "  said  Wardlaw,  with  a 
world  of  meaning. 

"Father!"  said  young  Wardlaw, 
imploringly,  "  for  my  sake,  say  no 
more  to-night.  Robert  Penfold  is 
incapable  of  a  dishonest  act." 

"  It  becomes  your  years  to  think 
so,  young  man.  But  I  have  lived 
long  enough  to  see  what  crimes  re- 
spectable men  are  betrayed  into  in 
the  hour  of  temptation.  And,  now  I 
think  of  it,  this  Robert  Penfold  is  in 
want  of  money.  Did  l>e  not  ask  me 
for  a  loan  of  two  thousands  pounds  1 
Was  not  that  the  very  sum  ?  Can't 
you  answer  me  ?  AVhy,  the  applica- 
tion came  through  you." 

Receiving  no  reply  from  his  son, 
but  a  sort  of  agonized  stare,  he  took 


8 


FOUL  PLAY. 


out  his  pencil  and  wrote  down  Robert 
Penfoki's  address.  This  he  handed 
tiie  bill-hroker,  and  j^ave  him  some 
advice  in  a  \vliis])er,  wliicii  Mr.  Chris- 
topher Adams  received  with  a  i)ro- 
fusioii  of  llianks,  and  bustled  away, 
leaving  Wardhiw  senior  excited  and 
indignant,  Wardlaw  junior  ghastly 
pale  and  almost  stupefied. 

Scarcely  a  word  was  spoken  for 
some  minutes,  and  then  tiie  younger 
man  broke  out  suddenly  :  "  Robert 
Penfold  is  the  best  friend  I  ever 
had  ;  I  should  have  been  expelled 
but  for  him,  and  I  siiould  never 
have  earned  that  Testamur  but  for 
him." 

The  old  merchant  interrupted  him. 
"  You  exaggerate  :  but,  to  tell  tlie 
truth,  I  am  sorry  now  I  did  not  lend 
him  the  money  you  asked  for.  For, 
mark  my  words,  in  a  moment  of 
temptation,  that  miserable  young 
man  has  forged  my  name,  and  will  be 
convicted  of  the  felony,  and  punished 
accordingly." 

"  No,  no  :  O,  God  forbid !  "  shrieked 
young  Wardlaw.  "  I  could  n't  bear 
it.  If  he  did,  he  must  have  intended 
to  replace  it.  I  must  see  him  ;  I  will 
see  liim  directly."  He  got  up  all  in 
a  hurry,  and  was  going  to  Penfold  to 
warn  him,  and  get  him  out  of  the  way 
till  the  money  should  be  replaced. 
But  ills  father  started  up  at  the  same 
moment  and  forbade  him,  in  accents 
that  he  had  never  yet  been  able  to 
resist. 

"  Sit  down,  sir,  this  instant,"  said 
the  old  man,  with  terrible  sternness. 
"  Sit  down,  I  say,  or  you  will  never 
be  a  partner  of  mine.  Justice  must 
take  its  course.  What  business  and 
■what  right  have  we  to  protect  a  felon  ? 
I  would  not  take  ijoiu-  part  if  yon  were 
one.  Indeed  it  is  too  late  now,  for 
the  detectives  will  i)C  with  him  before 
you  conld  reach  him.  I  gave  Adams 
his  address." 

At  this  last  piece  of  information 
Wardlaw  junior  leaned  his  head  on  the 
table,  and  groaned  aloud,  and  a  cold 
perspiration  gathered  in  beads  upon 
his  white  forehead. 


CHAPTER    II. 

That  same  evening  sat  over  their 
tea,  in  Norfolk  Street,  Strand,  anoth- 
er couple,  wiio  were  also  father  and 
son  ;  but,  in  this  pair,  the  VVardlaws 
were  reversed.  Michael  Penfold  was 
a  reverend,  gentle  creature,  with 
while  hair,  blue  eyes,  and  great  timid- 
ity ;  why,  if  a  stranger  put  to  him  a 
question,  he  used  to  look  all  round 
the  room  before  he  ventured  to  an- 
swer. 

Robert,  his  son,  was  a  young  man, 
with  a  large  brown  eye,  a  mellow 
voice,  square  shoulders,  and  a  prompt 
and  vigorous  manner.  Cricketer. 
Scholar.     Parson. 

They  were  talking  hopefully  to- 
gether over  a  living  Robert  was  go- 
ing to  buy  :  it  was  near  Oxford,  he 
said,  and  would  not  prevent  his  con- 
tinuing to  take  pupils.  "  But,  fa- 
ther," said  he,  "  it  will  be  a  place  to 
take  my  wife  to  if  I  ever  have  one  ; 
and,  meantime,  I  hope  you  will  run 
down  now  and  then,  Saturday  to 
Monday." 

"  That  I  will;  Robert.  Ah  !  how 
proud  she  would  have  been  to  hear 
you  preach  ;  it  was  always  her  dream, 
poor  thing." 

"  Let  us  think  she  can  hear  me," 
said  Robert.  "  And  I  hare  got  you 
still ;  the  proceeds  of  this  living  will 
help  me  to  lodge  you  more  comforta- 
bly." 

"  You  are  very  good,  Robert :  I 
would  rather  see  you  spend  it  upon 
yourself;  but,  dear  me,  what  a  man- 
ager you  must  be  to  dress  so  beauti- 
fully as  you  do,  and  send  your  old  fa- 
ther presents  as  you  do,  and  yet  put 
by  fourteen  hundred  pounds  to  buy 
this  living." 

"  You  are  mistaken,  sir,  I  have 
only  saved  four  hundred ;  the  odd 
thousand  —  But  that  is  a  secret  for 
the  present." 

"  O,  I  am  not  inquisitive  :  I  never 
wa.s." 

They  then  chatted  about  things  of 
no  importance  whatever,  and  the  old 
gentleman  was  just  lighting  his  candle 


FOUL  PLAY. 


to  go  to  bed,  when  a  visitor  was  ush- 
ered into  the  room. 

Tlic  Peufolds  looked  a  little  sur- 
prised, but  not  much.  They  had  no 
street  door  all  to  themselves ;  no 
liveried  dragons  to  interpose  between 
them  and.  unseasonable  or  unwelcome 
visitors. 

The  man  was  well  dressed,  with  one 
exception ;  he  wore  a  gold  chain, 
lie  had  a  hooked  nose,  and  a  black, 
piercing  eye.  He  stood  at  the  door 
and  observed  every  person  and  thing 
in  the  room  minutely  before  he  spoke 
a  word. 

Then  he  said,  quietly,  "Mr.  Mi- 
chael Penfold,  I  believe." 

"  At  your  service,  sir." 

"  And  Mr.  Robert  Penfold." 

"I  am  Robert  Penfold.  What  is 
your  business  ?  " 

"Pray  is  the  '  Robert  Penfold  '  at 
the  back  of  this  note  your  writing  ?  " 

"  Certainly  it  is  ;  they  would  not 
cash  it  without  that." 

"  0,  you  got  the  money,  then  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  did." 

"  Yon  have  not  parted  with  it,  have 
you  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  All  the  better."  He  then  turned 
to  Michael,  and  looked  at  him  ear- 
nestly a  moment.  "  The  fact  is,  sir," 
said  he,  "  there  is  a  little  irregularity 
about  this  bill,  which  must  be  ex- 
plained, or  your  son  might  be  called 
on  to  refund  the  cash." 

"  Irregularity  about  —  a  bill  1  " 
cried  Michael  Penfold,  in  dismay. 
"  Who  is  the  drawer  ?  Let  me  see  it. 
O  dear  me,  something  wrong  about  a 
bill  indorsed  by  you,  Robert  ? "  and 
the  old  man  began  to  shake  piteous- 

"  Why,  father,"  said  Robert,  "  what 
are  you  afraid  of?  If  the  bill  is  ir- 
regular, I  can  but  return  the  money. 
It  is  in  the  house." 

"  The  best  way  will  be  for  Mr.- 
Robert  Penfold  to  go  at  once  with  me 
to  tlie  bill-broker  ;  he  lives  but  a  few 
doors  off.  And  you,  sir,  must  stay 
here,  and  be  responsible  for  the  funds, 
till  we  return." 


Robert  Penfold  took  his  hat  direct- 
ly, and  went  off  with  this  mysterious 
visitor. 

They  had  not  gone  many  steps, 
when  Robert's  companion  stopped, 
and,  getting  in  front  of  him,  said, 
"  We  can  settle  this  matter  here." 
At  the  same  time  a  policeman  crossed 
the  way,  and  joined  them  ;  and  an- 
other man,  who  was  in  fact  a  police- 
man in  plain  clothes,  emerged  from  a 
doorway,  and  stood  at  Robert  Pen- 
fold's  back. 

The  Detective,  having  thus  sur- 
rounded him,  threw  off  disguise. 
"  My  man,"  said  he,  "  I  ought  to  have 
done  this  job  in  your  house.  But  I 
looked  at  the  worthy  old  gentleman, 
and  his  gray  hairs.  I  thought  I  'd 
spare  him  all  I  could.  I  have  a  war- 
rant to  arrest  you  for  forgery  !  " 

"  Forgery  !  arrest  me  for  Ibrgery  !  " 
said  Robert  Penfold,  with  some 
amazement,  but  little  emotion  ;  for 
he  hardly  seemed  to  take  it  in,  in  all 
its  horrible  significance. 

The  next  moment,  however,  he 
turned  pale,  and  almost  staggered  un- 
der the  blow. 

"  We  had  better  go  to  Mr.  Ward- 
law,"  said  he.  "  1  entreat  you  to  go 
to  him  with  me." 

"  Can't  be  done,"  said  the  Detec- 
tive. "  Wardlaw  has  nothing  to  do 
with  it.  The  bill  is  stopped.  You 
are  arrested  by  the  gent  that  cashed 
it.  Here  is  the  warrant ;  will  you  go 
quietly  with  us,  or  must  I  put  the 
darbies  on  ?  " 

Robert  was  violently  agitated. 
"  There  is  no  need  to  arrest  me,"  he 
cried ;  "  I  shall  not  run  from  my  ac- 
cuser. Hands  off,  I  say.  I  'm  a 
clergyman  of  the  Church  of  England, 
and  you  shall  not  lay  hands  on  me." 

But  one  of  the  policemen  did  lay 
hands  on  him.  Then  the  Reverend 
Robert  Penfold  shook  him  furiously 
off,  and,  with  one  active  bound,  sprang 
into  the  middle  of  the  road. 

The  officers  went  at  him  incau- 
tiously, and  the  head-detective,  as  he 
rushed  forward,  received  a  heavy  blow 
on  the  neck  and  jaw,  that  sounded 


10 


FOUL  PLAY. 


along  the  street,  and  sent  him  I'olling 
in  tlie  mud ;  this  was  lollowed  by  a 
quick  succession  of  staggering  facers, 
administered  right  and  Icfc,  on  the 
eyes  and  noses  of  the  subordinates. 
Tbe.se,  however,  tliough  bruised  and 
bleeding,  succeeded  at  last  in  grappling 
their  man,  and  all  came  to  the  ground 
together,  and  there  struggled  furious- 
ly ;  every  window  in  the  street  was 
open  by  this  time,  and  at  one  tlie 
white  hair  and  reverend  face  of 
Michael  Penfold  looked  out  on  this 
desperate  and  unseemly  struggle, 
■with  hands  that  beat  the  air  in  help- 
less agony,  and  inarticulate  cries  of 
terror. 

The  Detective  got  up  and  sat  upon 
Hobert  Penfold's  chest ;  and  at  last 
the  three  forced  the  handcuffs  upon 
him,  and  took  him  in  a  cab  to  the 
station-house. 

Next  day,  before  the  magistrate, 
Wardlaw  senior  proved  the  note  was 
a  forgery,  and  Mr.  Adams's  partner 
swore  to  the  prisoner  as  the  person 
who  had  presented  and  indorsed  the 
note.  The  officers  attended,  two 
with  black  eyes  apiece,  and  one  with 
his  jaw  bound  up,  and  two  sound 
teeth  in  his  pocket,  which  had  been 
driven  from  their  sockets  by  the  pris- 
oner in  his  desperate  attempt  to  es- 
cape. Their  evidence  hurt  tlie  prison- 
er, and  the  magistrate  refused  bail. 

The  Reverend  Robert  Penfold  was 
committed  to  prison,  to  be  tried  at 
the  Central  Criminal  Court  on  a 
charge  of  felony. 

Wardlaw  senior  returned  home, 
and  told  Wardlaw  junior,  who  said 
not  a  word.  He  soon  received  a  letter 
from  Robert  Penfold,  which  agitated 
him  greatly,  and  he  [n-oinised  to  go 
to  the  prison  and  see  him. 

But  he  never  went. 

He  was  very  miserable,  a  prey  to 
an  inward  struggle.  He  dared  not 
offend  his  father  on  the  eve  of  being 
made  jiartner.  Yet  his  heart  bled 
for  Robert  Penfold. 

He  did  what  might  perhaps  have 
been  expected  from  that  pale  eye  and 
receding  chin,  —  he  temporized.     He 


said  to  himself,  "  Before  that  horrible 
trial  conies  on,  I  shall  be  the  house 
of  Wardlaw,  and  able  to  draw  a  check 
for  thousands.  I  '11  buy  oft"  Adams 
at  any  price,  and  hush  up  the  whole 
matter." 

So  he  hoped,  and  hoped.  But  the 
accountant  was  slow,  the  public  pros- 
ecutor unusually  quick,  and,  to  young 
Wardlaw's  agony,  the  partnership 
deed  was  not  ready  when  an  implor- 
ing letter  was  put  into  his  hands, 
urging  him,  by  all  that  men  hold  sa- 
cred, to  attend  at  the  court  as  the 
prisoner's  witness. 

This  letter  almost  drove  young 
Wardlaw  mad.  He  went  to  Adams, 
and  entreated  him  not  to  carry  the 
matter  into  court.  But  Adams  was 
inexorable.  He  had  got  his  money, 
but  would  be  revenged  for  the  fright. 

Baffled  here,  young  Wardlaw  went 
down  to  Oxford  and  shut  himself  up 
in  his  own  room,  a  prey  to  fear  and 
remorse.  He  sported  his  oak,  and 
never  went  out.  All  his  exercise  was 
that  of  a  wild  beast  in  its  den,  walk- 
ing restlessly  up  and  down. 

But  all  his  caution  did  not  prevent 
the  i^risoner's  solicitor  from  getting  to 
him.  One  morning,  at  seven  o'clock, 
a  clerk  slipped  in  at  the  heels  of  his 
scout,  and,  coming  to  young  Ward- 
law's  bedside,  awoke  him  out  of  an 
uneasy  slumber  by  serving  him  with 
a  subpoena  to  appear  as  Robert  Pen- 
fold's  witness. 

This  last  stroke  finished  him.  His 
bodily  health  gave  way  under  his 
mental  distress.  Gastric  fever  set  in, 
and  he  was  lying  tossing  and  raving 
in  delirium,  while  Robert  Penfold  was 
being  tried  at  the  Central  Criminal 
Court. 

The  trial  occupied  six  hours,  and 
could  easily  be  made  rather  interest- 
ing. But,  for  various  reasons,  with 
whii'h  it  would  not  be  good  taste  to 
trouble  the  reader,  we  decide  to  skim 
it. 

The  indictment  contained  two 
counts  ;  one  for  ibrging  the  note  of 
hand,  the  other  for  uttering  it,  know- 
ing it  to  be  forged. 


FOUL  PLAY. 


11 


On  the  first  count,  the  Crown  was 
weak,  and  Inul  to  encounter  the  evi- 
dence of  Underclitl',  the  distinguished 
Expert,  who  swore  that  the  hand 
which  wrote  "  Robert  Penfold "  was 
not,  in  his  opinion,  the  hand  that  had 
written  tlie  body  of  the  instrument. 
lie  gave  many  minute  reasons,  in 
support  of  this  :  and  nothing  of  any 
weight  was  advanced  contra.  Tlie 
judge  directed  the  jury  to  acquit  the 
prisoner  on  that  count. 

But,  on  the  charge  of  uttering,  the 
evidence  was  clear,  and  on  the  ques- 
tion of  knowledge,  it  was,  perhaps,  a 
disadvantage  to  the  prisoner  that  he 
was  tried  in  England,  and  could  not 
be  heard  in  person,  as  he  could  have 
been  in  a  foreign  court ;  above  all, 
his  resistance  to  the  otScers  eked  out 
the  presumption  that  he  knew  the 
note  had  been  forged  by  some  person 
or  other,  who  was  probably  his  accom- 
plice. 

The  absence  of  liis  witness.  Ward- 
law  junior,  was  severely  commented 
on  by  his  counsel ;  indeed,  he  ap- 
pealed to  the  judge  to  commit  the 
said  Wardlaw  for  contempt  of  court. 
But  Wardlaw  senior  was  recalled,  and 
swore  that  he  had  left  his  son  in  a 
burning  fever,  not  expected  to  live  : 
and  declared,  with  genuine  emotion, 
that  nothing  bat  a  high  sense  of  pub- 
lic duty  had  brought  him  hither  from 
his  dying  son's  bedside.  He  also 
told  the  court  that  Arthur's  inabil- 
ity to  clear  his  friend  had  really 
been  the  first  cause  of  his  illness, 
from  which  he  was  not  expected  to 
recover. 

The  jury  consulted  together  a  long 
time;  and,  at  last,  brought  in  a  ver- 
dict of  "  Guilty  "  ;  but  recommend- 
ed him  to  mercy,  on  grounds  which 
might  fairly  have  been  alleged  in  fa- 
vor of  his  innocence ;  but,  if  guilty, 
rather  aggravated  his  crime. 
*  Then  an  officer  of  the  court  in- 
quired, in  a  sort  of  chant  or  recita- 
tivo,  whether  the  prisoner  had  any- 
thmg  to  say  why  judgment  should 
not  be  given  m  accordance  with  the 
verdict. 


It  is  easy  to  divest  words  of  their 
meaning  by  false  intonation ;  and 
prisoners  in  general  receive  this  bit 
of  singsong  in  dead  silence.  For 
why'?  the  chant  conveys  no  idea  to 
their  ears,  and  they  would  as  soon 
think  of  replying  to  the  notes  of  a 
cuckoo. 

But  the  Reverend  Robert  Penfold 
was  in  a  keen  agony  that  sharpened 
all  his  senses  ;  he  caught  the  sense  of 
the  words  in  spite  of  the  speaker,  and 
clung  wildly  to  the  straw  that  monot- 
onous machine  held  out.  "  My  lord  ! 
my  lord !  "  he  cried,  "  I  '11  tell  you 
the  real  reason  why  young  Wardlaw 
is  not  here." 

The  judge  put  up  his  hand  with  a 
gesture  that  entbrced  silence  :  "  Pris- 
oner," said  he,  "  I  cannot  go  back  to 
facts  ;  the  jury  have  dealt  with  them. 
Judgment  can  be  arrested  only  on 
grounds  of  law.  On  these  you  can  be 
heard.  But,  if  you  have  none  to  offer, 
you  must  be  silent,  and  submit  to 
your  sentence."  He  then,  without  a 
pause,  proceeded  to  point  out  the  hei- 
nous character  of  the  offence,  but  ad- 
mitted there  was  one  mitigating  cir- 
cumstance ;  and,  in  conclusion,  he 
condemned  the  culprit  to  five  years' 
penal  servitude. 

At  this  tlie  poor  wretch  uttered  a 
cry  of  anguish  that  was  fearful,  and 
clutched  the  dock  convulsively. 

Now  a  prisoner  rarely  speaks  to  a 
judge  without  revolting  him  by  bad 
law,  or  bad  logic,  or  hot  words.  But 
this  wild  cry  was  innocent  of  all  these, 
and  went  straight  from  the  heart  in 
the  dock  to  the  heart  on  the  judgment- 
seat.  And  so  his  lordship's  voice 
trembled  for  a  moment,  and  then  be- 
came firm  again,  but  solemn  and  hu- 
mane. "  But,"  said  he,  "  my  experi- 
ence tells  me  this  is  your  first  crime, 
and  may  possibly  be  your  last.  I 
shall  therefore  use  my  influence  that 
you  mav  not  be  associated  with  more 
hardened  criminals,  but  may  be  sent 
out  of  this  country  to  another,  where 
vou  may  begin  life  afresh,  and,  in  the 
course  of  years,  efface  this  dreadful 
stain.     Give  me  hopes  of  you ;  begin 


12 


FOUL  PLAY. 


your  repentance  where  now  you  stand, 
by  blaming  yourself,  aiid  no  other 
man.  No  man  constrained  you  to 
utter  a  forged  note,  and  to  receive  the 
money ;  it  was  found  in  your  posses- 
sion. -For  such  an  act  there  can  be 
no  defence  in  law,  morality,  or  relig- 
ion." 

These  words  overpowered  the  cul- 
prit. He  burst  out  crying  with  great 
violence. 

But  it  did  not  last  long.  He  be- 
came strangely  composed  all  of  a  sud- 
den ;  and  said,  "  God  forgive  all 
concerned  in  this  —  but  one  —  but 
one." 

He  then  bowed  respectfully,  and 
like  a  gentleman,  to  the  judge  and 
the  jury,  and  walked  out  of  the  dock 
with  the  air  of  a  man  who  had  parted 
with  emotion,  and  would  march  to 
the  gallows  now  without  flinching. 

The  counsel  for  the  Crown  required 
that  the  forged  document  should  be 
impounded. 

"  I  was  about  to  make  the  same 
demand,"  said  the  prisoner's  counsel. 

The  judge  snubbed  them  both,  and 
said  it  was  a  matter  of  course. 

Robert  Penfold  spent  a  year  in  sep- 
arate confinement,  and  then,  to  cure 
him  of  its  sahitary  effect  (if  any),  was 
sent  on  board  the  hulk  "  Vengeance," 
and  was  herded  with  the  greatest  mis- 
creants in  creation.  They  did  not 
reduce  him  to  their  level,  but  they  in- 
jured his  mind  ;  and,  before  half  his 
sentence  had  expired,  he  sailed  for  a 
penal  colony,  a  man  with  a  liot  coal 
in  his  bosom,  a  creature  imbittered, 
poisoned ;  ho])ing  little,  believing  lit- 
tle, fearing  little,  and  hating  much. 

He  took  with  him  the  prayer-l)Ook 
his  mother  had  given  iiim  when  he 
was  ordained  deacon.  But  he  seldom 
read  beyond  the  fly-leaf :  there  the 
poor  lady  had  written  at  large  her 
mother's  heart,  and  her  pious  soul  as- 
piring heavenwards  for  lier  darling 
son.  This,  when  all  seemed  darkest, 
he  would  sometimes  run  to  with  moist 
eyes  :  for  he  was  sure  of  iiis  mother's 
love,  but  almost  doubted  the  justice 
of  his  God. 


CHAPTER  in. 

I\Ir.  Wardlaw  went  down  to  his 
son,  and  nursed  him.  He  kept  the 
newspapers  from  him,  and,  on  his  fe- 
ver abating,  had  him  conveyed  by 
easy  stages  to  the  seaside,  and  then 
sent  him  abroad. 

The  young  man  obeyed  in  gloomy 
silence.  He  never  asked  after  Rob- 
ert Penfold,  now  ;  never  mentioned 
his  name.  He  seemed,  somehow, 
thankful  to  be  controlled  mind  and 
body. 

But,  before  he  had  been  abroad  a 
month,  lie  wrote  for  leave  to  return 
home  and  to  throw  himself  into  busi- 
ness. There  was,  for  once,  a  nervous 
impatience  in  iiis  letters,  and  his  father, 
who  pitied  him  deeply,  and  was  more 
than  ever  inclined  to  reward  and  in- 
dulge him,  yielded  readily  enough  ; 
and,  on  his  arrival,  signed  the  part- 
nership deed,  and,  Polonius-like,  gave 
him  much  good  counsel ;  then  retired 
to  his  country  scat. 

At  first  he  used  to  run  up  every 
three  days,  and  examine  the  day-book 
and  ledger,  and  advise  his  junior  ;  but 
these  visits  soon  became  fewer,  and  at 
last  he  did  little  more  than  correspond 
occasionally. 

Arthur  Wardlaw  held  the  reins,  and 
easily  paid  his  Oxford  debts  out  of 
the  assets  of  the  firm.  Not  being 
happy  in  his  mind,  he  threw  himself 
into  commerce  with  feverish  zeal,  and 
very  soon  extended  the  operations  of 
tiie  house. 

One  of  his  first  acts  of  authority 
was  to  send  for  Michael  Tenfold  into 
iiis  room.  Now  ])Oor  old  ^lichael, 
ever  since  his  son's  misfortune,  as  he 
called  it,  had  crept  to  his  desk  like  a 
culprit,  expecting  every  day  to  be  dis- 
charged. When  he  received  this 
summons  he  gave  a  sigh  and  went 
slowly  to  the  young  merchant. 

Arthur  Wardlaw  looked  up  at  his 
entrance,  then  looked  down  again, and 
said  coldly,  "  Mr  Penfold,  you  have 
been  a  faithful  servant  to  us  many 
years  ;  I  raise  your  salary  .£  50  a  year, 
and  you  will  keep  the  ledger." 


FOUL  PLAY. 


13 


The  old  man  was  dumfoandcred  at 
first,  and  then  began  to  give  vent  to  his 
surjjrise  and  gratitude  ;  but  Wardlaw 
cut  him  short,  ahnost  fiercely.  "  There, 
there,  there,"  said  he,  without  raising 
his  eyes,  "  let  me  hear  no  more  about 
it,  and,  above  all,  never  speak  to  me  of 
that  cursed  business.  It  was  no  fault 
of  yours,  nor  mine  neither.  There  — 
go  —  I  want  no  thanks.  Do  you 
hear  ?  leave  me,  Mr.  Tenfold,  if  you 
please." 

The  old  man  bowed  low  and  re- 
tired, wondering  much  at  his  employ- 
er's goodness,  and  a  little  at  his  irri- 
tability. 

Wardlaw  junior's  whole  soul  was 
given  to  business  night  and  day,  and 
he  soon  became  known  for  a  very  am- 
bitious and  rising  merchant.  But,  by 
and  by,  ambition  had  to  encounter  a 
rival  in  his  heart.  He  fell  in  love ; 
deeply  in  love ;  and  with  a  wortiiy 
object. 

The  young  lady  was  the  daugliter 
of  a  distinguished  otficer,  whose  merits 
were  universally  recognized,  but  not 
rewarded  in  proportion.  Wai-dlaw's 
suit  was  favorably  received  by  the 
father,  and  the  daughter  gradually 
yielded  to  an  attachment,  the  warmth, 
sincerity,  and  singleness  of  which  were 
manifest :  and  the  pair  would  have 
been  married,  but  for  the  circum- 
stance that  her  father  (partly  through 
"Wardlaw's  influence,  by  the  by)  had 
obtained  a  lucrative  post  abroad 
which  it  suited  his  means  to  accept, 
at  all  events  for  a  time.  He  was  a 
widower,  and  his  daughter  could  not 
let  him  go  alone. 

This  temporary'  separation,  if  it 
postponed  a  marriage,  led  naturally 
to  a  solemn  engagement;  and  Artlmr 
Wardlaw  enjoyed  the  happiness  of 
writing  and  receiving  affectionate  let- 
ters by  every  foreign  post.  Love, 
worthily  bestowed,  shed  its  balm  up- 
on his  heart,  and,  under  its  soft  but 
powerful  ciiarm,  he  grew  tranquil  and 
complacent,  and  his  character  and 
temper  seemed  to  improve.  Such 
virtue  is  there  in  a  pure  attach- 
meat. 


Meanwhile  the  extent  of  bis  opera- 
tions alarmed  old  Penfold ;  but  he 
soon  reasoned  that  worthy  down  with 
overpowering  conclusions  and  superior 
smiles. 

lie  had  been  three  years  the  ruling 
spirit  of  Wardlaw  and  Son,  when 
some  curious  events  took  place  in 
another  hemisphere  ;  and  in  these 
events,  which  we  are  now  to  relate, 
Arthur  Wardlaw  was  more  nearly  in- 
terested than  may  appear  at  first 
sight. 

Robert  Penfold,  in  due  course,  ap- 
plied to  Lieutenant-General  RoUeston 
for  a  ticket  of  leave.  That  functiona- 
ry thought  the  application  premature, 
the  crime  being  so  grave.  He  com- 
plained that  the  system  had  become 
too  lax,  and  for  his  part  he  seldom 
gave  a  ticket  of  leave  until  some  suit- 
able occupation  was  provided  for  the 
applicant.  "  Will  anybody  take  you 
as  a  clerk  1  If  so,  —  I  '11  see  about 
it." 

Robert  Penfold  could  find  nobody 
to  take  him  into  a  post  of  confidence 
all  at  once,  and  wrote  the  General  an 
eloquent  letter,  begging  hard  to  be 
allowed  to  labor  with  his  hands. 

Fortunately,  General  RoUcston's 
gardener  had  just  turned  him  off;  so 
he  offered  the  post  to  his  eloquent 
correspondent,  remarking  that  he  did 
not  much  mind  employing  a  ticket-of- 
leave  man  himself,  though  he  was  re- 
solved to  protect  his  neighbors  from 
their  relapses. 

The  convict  then  came  to  General 
RoUeston,  and  begged  leave  to  enter 
on  his  duties  imder.  the  name  of 
James  Seaton.  At  that  General  Rol- 
leston  hem'd  and  haw'd,  and  took  a 
note.  But  his  final  decision  was  as 
follows :  "  If  you  really  mean  to 
change  your  character,  why,  the  name 
you  have  disgraced  might  hang  round 
your  neck.  Well,  I  '11  give  you  every 
chance.  But,"  said  this  old  warrior, 
suddenly  compressing  his  resolute 
lips  just  a  little,  "  if  you  go  a  yard  off 
the  straight  path  now,  look  for  no 
mercy,  —  Jemmy  Seaton." 


14 


FOUL  PLAY. 


So  the  convict  was  rc-christcned  at 
the  tail  of  a  threat,  and  let  loose 
amonj;  the  warrior's  tulips. 

His  appearance  was  ci)an<j:cd  as  ef- 
fectually as  his  name.  Even  heforc 
he  was  Seatoned  he  had  grown  a  silky 
nmstaclie  and  beard  orsingular  length 
and  beauty  ;  and,  what  "with  these, 
and  his  working-man's  clothes,  and  his 
cheeks  and  neck  tanned  by  the  sun, 
our  readers  would  never  have  recog- 
nized in  this  hale,  bearded  laborer  the 
pale  prisoner  that  iiad  tremhled,  raged, 
wept,  and  submitted  in  the  dock  of 
the  Central  Criminal  Court. 

Our  Universities  cure  men  of  doing 
things  by  halves,  be  the  things  mental 
or  muscular ;  so  Beaton  gardened 
much  more  zealously  than  his  ple- 
beian predecessor  :  up  at  live,  and  did 
not  leave  till  eight. 

But  he  was  unpopular  in  the  kitch- 
en, —  because  he  was  always  out  of 
it :  taciturn  and  bitter,  he  shunned  his 
fellow- servants. 

Yet  working  among  the  flowers  did 
him  good  ;  these  his  pretty  compan- 
ions and  nurslings  had  no  vices. 

One  day,  as  he  was  rolling  the 
grass  upon  the  lawn,  he  heard  a  soft 
rusile  at  some  distance,  and,  looking 
round,  saw  a  young  lad}'  on  the  grav- 
el path,  whose  calm  but  bright  face, 
coming  so  suddenly,  literally  dazzled 
liira.  She  had  a  clear  cheek  bloom- 
ing with  exercise,  rich  brown  hair, 
smooth,  glossy,  and  abundant,  and  a 
very  light  hazel  eye,  of  singular 
beauty  and  serenity.  She  glided 
along,  tranquil  as  a  goddess,  smote 
him  with  beauty  and  perfume,  and 
left  him  staring  after  her  receding  fig- 
ure, which  was,  in  its  way,  as  capti- 
vating as  her  face. 

She  was  walking  up  and  down  for 
exercise,  briskly,  but  without  effort. 
Once  she  passed  within  a  i'cw  yards 
of  him,  and  he  touched  his  hat  to  her. 
She  inclined  her  head  gently,  but  her 
eyes  did  not  rest  an  instant  on  her 
gardener ;  and  so  she  passed  and  re- 
passed, unconsciously  sawing  this  soli- 
tary heart  with  soft  but  penetrating 
thrills. 


At  last  she  went  in-doors  to  lunch- 
con,  and  the  lawn  seemed  to  miss  the 
light  music  of  her  rustling  dress,  and 
the  sunshine  of  her  presence,  and 
there  was  a  painful  void;  but  that 
passed,  and  a  certain  sense  of  happi- 
ness stole  over  James  Beaton, — an 
unreasonable  joy,  that  often  runs  be- 
fore folly  and  trouble. 

The  young  lady  was  Helen  Rolle- 
ston,  just  returned  home  from  a  visit. 
She  walked  in  the  garden  every  day, 
and  Beaton  watched  her,  and  j)eeped 
at  her,  unseen,  behind  trees  and  bush- 
es. He  fed  his  eyes  and  his  heart 
upon  her,  and,  by  degrees,  she  became 
the  sun  of  his  solitary  existence.  It 
was  madness ;  but  its  first  effect  was 
not  unwholesome.  The  daily  study 
of  this  creature,  who,  though  by  no 
means  the  angel  he  took  her  for,  was 
at  all  events  a  pure  and  virtuous  wo- 
man, soothed  his  sore  heart,  and 
counteracted  the  demoralizing  influ- 
ences of  his  late  companions.  Every 
day  he  drank  deeper  of  an  insane,  but 
purifying  and  elevating  passion. 

He  avoided  the  kitchen  still  more; 
and  that,  by  the  by,  was  unlucky  ;  for 
there  he  could  have  learned  something 
about  Miss  Helen  RoUeston,  that 
would  have  warned  him  to  keep  at 
the  other  end  of  the  garden,  whenever 
that  charming  face  and  form  glided  to 
and  fro  amongst  the  minor  flowers. 

A  beautiful  face  fires  our  imagina- 
tion, and  we  see  higher  virtue  and 
intelligence  in  it  than  we  can  detect 
in  its  owner's  head  or  heart  when  we 
descend  to  calm  inspection.  James 
Seaton  gazed  on  Miss  Rolleston  day 
after  day,  at  so  respectful  a  distance, 
that  she  became  his  godtless.  If  a 
day  passed  without  his  seeing  her,  he 
was  dejected.  When  she  was  behind 
her  time,  he  was  restless,  anxious,  and 
his  work  distasteful ;  and  then,  when 
she  came  out  at  last,  he  thrilled  all 
over,  and  the  lawn,  ay,  the  world  it- 
self, seemed  to  fill  with  sunshine. 
His  adoration,  timid  by  its  own  na- 
ture, was  doubly  so  by  reason  of  his 
fallen  and  hopeless  condition.  He  cut 
nosegays  for  her;  but  gave  theiu  to 


FOUL  PLAY. 


15 


her  maid  Wilson  for  her.  He  had 
not  the  courage  to  offer  them  lo  her- 
self. 

One  eveninj^,  as  he  went  home,  a 
man  addressed  him  familiarly,  but  in 
a  low  voice.  Seatou  looked  at  him 
attentively,  and  recognized  him  at 
last.  It  was  a  convict  culled  Butt, 
Avho  had  come  over  in  the  ship  with 
him.  The  man  offered  him  a  glass  of 
ale  ;  Seaton  declined  it.  Butt,  a  very 
clever  rogue,  seemed  hurt :  so  then 
Seaton  assented  reluctantly.  Butt 
took  him  to  a  public  house  in  a  nar- 
row street,  and  into  a  private  room. 
Seaton  started  as  soon  as  he  entered, 
for  there  sat  two  repulsive  ruffians, 
and,  by  a  look  tliat  passed  rapidly 
between  them  and  Butt,  he  saw  plain- 
ly that  they  were  waiting  for  him.  lie 
felt  nervous  ;  the  place  was  so  uiicouth 
and  dark  the  faces  so  villanous. 

However,  they  invited  him  to  sit 
down,  roughly,  but  with  an  air  of 
good  fellowship ;  and  very  soon 
opened  their  business  over  their  ale. 
We  are  all  bound  to  assist  our  fellow- 
creatures,  when  it  can  be  done  with- 
out trouble ;  and  what  they  asked 
of  him  was  a  simple  act  of  courtesy, 
such  as  in  their  opinion  no  man  wor- 
thy of  the  name  could  deny  to  his 
fellow.  It  was  to  give  General  Rol- 
leston's  wateh-dog  a  piece  of  prepared 
meat  upon  a  certain  evening  :  and,  in 
return  for  this  trifling  civility,  they 
were  generous  enough  to  offer  him 
a  full  share  of  any  light  valuables 
they  might  find  in  the  General's 
house. 

Seaton  trembled,  and  put  his  face 
in  his  hands  a  moment.  "  I  cannot 
do  it,"  said  he. 

"  Why  not  1 " 

"  He  has  been  too  good  to  me." 

A  coarse  laugh  of  derision  greeted 
this  argument ;  it  seemed  so  irrelevant 
to  these  pure  egotists.  Seaton,  how- 
ever, persisted,  and  on  that  one  of  the 
men  got  up  and  stood  before  the 
door,  and  drew  his  knife  gently. 

Seaton  glanced  his  eyes  round  in 
search  of  a  weapon,  and  turned  pale. 

"Do    you   mean  to   split  on  us, 


mate  ? "  said  one  of  the  ruffians  in 
front  of  him. 

"  No,  I  don't.  But  I  won't  rob  my 
benefactor :  you  siiall  kill  me  rirst." 
And  with  that  he  darted  to  the  fire- 
place, and  in  a  moment  the  poker 
was  high  in  air,  and  the  way  he 
squared  his  shoulders  and  stood  ready 
to  hit  to  the  on,  or  cut  to  the  off,  was 
a  caution. 

"  Come,  drop  that,"  said  Butt, 
grimly  ;  "  and  })ut  up  ^o^r  knife,  Bob. 
Can't  a  pal  be  out  of  a  job,  and  yet 
not  split  on  them  that  is  in  it !  " 

"  ^Vhy  should  I  split "?  "  said  Robert 
Penfold.  "  Has  the  law  been  a  friend 
to  me  ?  But  I  won't  rob  my  benefac- 
tor—  and  his  daughter." 

"  That  is  square  enough,"  said 
Butt.  "  Why,  pals,  there  arc  other 
cribs  to  be  cracked  besides  that  old 
bloke's.  Finish  the  ale,  mate,  and 
part  friends." 

"  If  you  will  promise  me  to  '  crack 
some  other  crib,'  and  let  that  one 
alone." 

A  sullen  assent  was  given,  and 
Seaton  drank  their  healths,  and 
walked  away.  Butt  followed  him 
soon  after,  and  affected  to  side  with 
him,  and  intimated  that  he  himself 
was  capable  of  not  robbing  a  man's 
house  who  had  been  good  to  him,  or 
to  a  pal  of  his.  Indeed  this  plausible 
person  said  so  much,  and  his  sullen 
comrades  had  said  so  little,  that  Sea- 
ton, rendered  keen  and  anxious  by 
love,  invested  his  savings  in  a  Colt's 
revolver  and  ammunition. 

He  did  not  stop  there  ;  after  the 
hint  about  the  watch-dog,  he  would 
not  trust  that  faithful  but  too  carniv- 
orous animal  ;  he  brought  his  blan- 
kets into  the  little  tool-house,  and  lay 
there  every  night  in  a  sort  of  dog's 
sleep.  This  tool  house  was  erected  in 
a  little  back  garden,  separated  from 
the  lawn  only  by  some  young  trees  in 
single  file.  Now  Miss  Rolleston's  win- 
dow looked  out  upon  tlie  lawn,  so  that 
Seaton's  watch-tower  was  not  many 
yards  from  it ;  then ,  as  the  tool-house 
was  only  lighted  from  above,  he  bored 
a  hole  in  the  wooden  structure,  and 


16 


FOUL  PLAY. 


through  this  he  watclied,  ami  slept, 
and  watclied.  lie  used  to  sit  stiuly- 
ini,^  tlieolotry  by  a  farthiiij;;  rushligiit 
till  the  lady's  budtinie,  and  tlieu  he 
Avatched  fur  her  shadow.  If  it  ap- 
peared for  a  few  moments  on  the 
blind,  he  jjave  a  sigh  of  eontent,  and 
went  to  sleep,  but  awaked  every  now 
and  then  to  see  that  all  was  well. 

After  a  few  nights,  his  alarms  nat- 
urally ceased,  but  his  love  increased, 
fed  now  from  this  new  source,  the 
sweet  sense  of  being  the  secret  pro- 
tector of  her  he  adored. 

Meantime,  Miss  RoUeston's  lady's 
maid,  Wilson,  fell  in  love  with  him 
after  her  i'ashion ;  she  had  taken  a 
fancy,  to  his  face  at  once,  and  he  had 
encouraged  her  a  little,  unintention- 
ally ;  for  he  brought  the  nosegays  to 
her,  and  listened  complacently  to  her 
gossip,  for  the  sake  of  the  few  words 
she  let  fall  now  and  then  about  her 
young  mistress.  As  he  never  ex- 
changed two  sentences  at  a  time  with 
any  other  servant,  this  flattered  Sarah 
Wilson,  and  she  soon  began  to  meet 
and  accost  iiim  oftencr,  and  in  cher- 
rier-colored  ribbons,  than  he  could 
stand.  So  then  he  showed  impa- 
tience, and  then  she,  reading  him  by 
herself,  suspected  some  vulgar  rival. 

Suspicion  soon  bred  jealousy, 
jealousy  vigilance,  and  vigilance  de- 
tection. 

Her  first  discovery  was  that,  so 
long  as  she  talked  of  Miss  Helen 
Rolleston,  she  was  always  welcome  ; 
her  second  was,  that  Seaton  slept  in 
the  tool-house. 

She  was  not  romantic  enough  to 
connect  her  two  discoveries  together. 
They  lay  apart  in  her  mind,  until 
circumstances  we  are  about  to  relate 
suj)])licd  a  connecting  link. 

(inc  Thursday  evening  James 
Seaton's  goddess  sat  alone  with  her 
papa,  and,  —  being  a  young  lady  of 
fair  abilities,  who  had  gone  through 
her  course  of  music  and  other  studies, 
taught  biainlessly,  and  who  was  now 
goin<;  tiu'oiigh  a  course  of  monoto- 
nous pleasures,  and  had  not  accumu- 
lated any  great  store  of  mental   re- 


sources, —  she  was  listless  and  lan- 
guid, and  would  have  yawned  forty 
times  in  Irer  jiapa's  face,  only  she  was 
too  well-bred.  She  always  turned 
her  head  away  when  it  came,  and 
cither  suppressed  it,  or  else  hid  it  with 
a  lovely  white  hand.  At  last,  as  she 
was  a  good  girl,  she  blushed  at  her 
behavior,  and  roused  herself  up,  and 
said  she,  "  Papa,  shall  I  play  you  the 
new  qiuidrilles '?  " 

Papa  gave  a  start  and  a  shake,  and 
said,  with  well  -  feigned  vehemence, 
"  Ay,  do,  my  dear,"  and  so  composed 
himself — to  listen;  and  Helen  sat 
down  and  played  the  quadrilles. 

The  composer  had  taken  immortal 
melodies,  some  gay,  some  sad,  and 
had  robbed  them  of  their  distinctive 
character,  and  hashed  them  till  they 
were  all  one  monotonous  rattle.  But 
General  Kolleston  was  little  the  worse 
for  all  this.  As  Apollo  saved  Horace 
from  hearing  a  ])oetaster's  rhymes,  so 
did  Somnus,  another  beneficent  little 
deity,  rescue  our  warrior  from  his 
daughter's  music. 

She  was  neither  angry  nor  surprised. 
A  delicious  smile  illumined  her  face 
directly ;  she  crept  to  him  on  tiptoe, 
and  bestowed  a  kiss,  light  as  a  zephyr, 
on  his  gray  head.  And,  in  truth, 
the  bending  attitude  of  this  supple 
figure,  clad  in  snowy  muslin,  the  vir- 
giiuil  face  and  light  hazel  eye  beaming 
love  and  reverence,  and  the  airy  kiss, 
had  something  angelic. 

She  look  her  camlle,  and  glided  up 
to  her  bedroom.  And,  the  moment 
she  got  there,  and  could  gratify  her 
somnolence  without  ofit'iice,  need  we 
say  she  became  wide-awake  ?  She  sat 
down,  ami  wrote  long  letters  to  three 
other  young  ladies,  gushing  aficction, 
asking  (luestions  of  the  kind  nobody 
replies  to,  painting,  with  a  young 
lady's  colors,  the  male  being  to  wiioin 
she  was  shortly  to  be  married,  wish- 
ing her  dear  friends  a  like  demigod, 
if  ])erchance  earth  contained  two  ; 
and  so  to  the  last  new  bonnet  and 
preacher. 

She    sat   over  her  paper   till   one 


FOUL  PLAY, 


17 


o'clock,    and    Seaton    watched    and 
adored  her  shadow. 

"When  she  had  done  writing,  she 
opened  her  window  and  looked  out 
upon  the  night.  She  lifted  those 
wonderful  hazel  eyes  towards  the 
stars,  and  her  watcher  migiit  well  be 
pardoned  if  he  saw  in  her  a  celestial 
being  looking  up  from  an  earthly 
resting-place  towards  her  native  sky. 

At  two  o'clock  she  was  in  bed,  but 
not  asleep.  She  lay  calmly  gazing  at 
the  Southern  Cross,  and  other  lovely 
stars  shining  with  vivid,  but  chaste, 
fire  in  the  purple  vault  of  heaven. 

While  thus  employed  she  heard  a 
slight  sound  outside  that  made  her 
turn  her  eyes  towards  a  young  tree 
near  her  window.  Its  top  branches 
were  waving  a  good  deal,  though 
there  was  not  a  breath  stirring.  This 
struck  her  as  curious,  very  curious. 

Whilst  she  wondered,  suddenly  an 
arm  and  a  hand  came  in  sight,  and 
after  them  the  whole  figure  of  a  man, 
going  up  the  tree. 

Helen  sat  up  now,  glaring  with  ter- 
ror, and  was  so  paralyzed,  she  did 
not  utter  a  sound.  About  a  foot  be- 
low her  window  was  a  lead  flat  that 
roofed  the  bay-window  below.  It 
covered  an  area  of  several  feet,  and 
the  man  sprang  on  to  it  with  perfect 
ease  from  the  tree.  Helen  shrieked 
with  terror.  At  that  very  instant 
there  was  a  flash,  a  pistol-shot,  and 
the  man's  arms  went  whirling,  and  he 
staggered  and  fell  over  the  edge  of  the 
flat,  and  struck  the  grass  below  with 
a  heavy  thud.  Shots  and  blows  fol- 
lowed, and  all  the  sounds  of  a  bloody 
struggle  rung  in  Helen's  ears  as  she 
flung  herself  screaming  from  the  bed 
and  darted  to  the  door.  She  ran  and 
clung  quivering  to  her  sleepy  maid, 
Wilson.  The  house  was  alarmed, 
lights  flashed,  footsteps  pattered, 
there  was  universal  commotion. 

General  RoUeston  soon  learned  his 
daughter's  story  from  Wilson,  and 
aroused  his  male  servants,  one  of 
whom  was  an  old  soldier.  They 
searched  the  house  first ;  but  no  en- 
trance had  been  effected  ;  so  they 
2 


went  out  on  the  lawn  with  blunder- 
buss and  pistol. 

They  found  a  man  lying  on  his 
back  at  the  foot  of  the  bay-window. 

They  pounced  on  him,  and,  to 
their  amazement,  it  was  the  gardener, 
James  Seaton.     Insensible. 

General  RoUeston  was  quite  taken 
aback  for  a  moment.  Then  he  was 
sorry.  But,  after  a  little  reflection, 
he  said  very  sternly,  "  Carry  the 
blackguard  iii-doors  ;  and  run  for  an 
ofiicer." 

Seaton  was  taken  into  the  hall,  and 
laid  flat  on  the  floor. 

All  the  servants  gathered  about 
him,  brimful  of  curiosity,  and  the  fe- 
male ones  began  to  speak  all  togeth- 
er ;  but  General  RoUeston  told  them 
sharply  to  hold  their  tongues,  and  to 
retire  behind  the  man.  "  Somebody 
sprinkle  him  with  cold  water,"  said 
he ;  "  and  be  quiet,  all  of  you,  and 
keep  out  of  sight,  while  I  examine 
him."  He  stood  before  the  insensi- 
ble figure  with  his  arms  folded, 
amidst  a  dead  silence,  broken  only  by 
the  stifled  sobs  of  Sarah  Wilson,  and 
of  a  sociable  housemaid  who  cried 
with  her  for  company. 

And  now  Seaton  began  to  writhe 
and  show  signs  of  returning  sense. 

Next  he  moaned  pitcously,  and 
sighed.  But  General  RoUeston  could 
not  pity  him  ;  he  waited  grimly  for  re- 
turning consciousness,  to  subject  him 
to  a  merciless  interrogatory. 

He  waited  just  one  second  too  long. 
He  had  to  answer  a  question  instead 
of  putting  one. 

The  judgment  is  the  last  faculty  a 
man  recovers  when  emerging  from 
insensibility  ;  and  Seaton,  seeing  the 
General  standing  before  him,  stretched 
out  his  hands,  and  said,  in  a  faint,  but 
earnest  voice,  before  eleven  witnesses, 
"  Is  she  safe  '?     0,  is  she  safe  ?  " 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Saeati  Wilson  left  off  crying,  and 
looked  down  on  the  ground  with  a 


18 


FOUL  PLAY. 


very  red  face.  General  RoUeston 
was  amazed.  "  '  Is  she  safe  1 '  Is 
who  safe  ?  "  said  he.  "  He  means 
my  mistress,"  replied  Wilson,  rather 
brusquely  ;  and  flounced  out  of  the 
hall. 

"  She  is  safe,  no  thanks  to  you," 
said  General  Rolleston.  "  What  were 
you  doint^  under  her  v.'indow  at  this 
time  of  night  ?  "  And  the  harsh  tone 
in  which  this  question  was  put 
showed  Seaton  he  was  suspected. 
This  wounded  him,  and  he  replied, 
doggedly,  "  Lucky  for  you  all  I  was 
there." 

"  That  is  no  answer  to  my  ques- 
tion," said  the  General,  sternly. 

"  It  is  all  the  answer  I  shall  give 
you." 

"  Then  I  shall  hand  you  over  to 
the  officer,  without  another  word." 

"  Do,  sir,  do,"  said  Seaton,  bit- 
terly ;  hut  he  added  more  gently, 
"  you  will  be  sorry  for  it  when  you 
come  to  your  senses." 

At  this  moment  Wilson  entered 
with  a  message.  "  If  you  please,  sir, 
Miss  Rolleston  says  the  robber  had 
no  beard.  Miss  have  never  noticed 
Seaton's  face,  but  his  beard  she  have  ; 
and  0,  if  you  please,  sir,  she  begged 
me  to  ask  him,  —  Was  it  you  that 
fired  the  pistol  and  shot  the  robber  ?  " 

The  delivery  of  this  ungrammatical 
message  but  rational  query  was  like 
a  ray  of  light  streaming  into  a  dark 
place  :  it  changed  the  whole  aspect  of 
things.  As  for  Seaton,  he  received  it 
as  if  Heaven  was  speaking  to  him 
through  Wilson.  His  sullen  air  re- 
laxed, the  water  stood  in  his  eyes,  he 
smiled  affectionately,  and  said  in  a 
low,  tender  voice,  "  Tell  her  I  heard 
some  bad  characters  talking  about 
this  house, —  that  was  a  month  ago, 
—  so,  ever  since  then,  I  have  slept  in 
the  tool-house  to  watch.  Yes,  I  shot 
the  robber  with  my  revolver,  and  I 
marked  one  or  two  more ;  but  they 
were  three  to  one  ;  I  think  I  must 
have  got  a  blow  on  the  head ;  for  I 
felt  nothing  —  " 

Here  he  was  interrupted  by  a  vio- 
lent scream  from  Wilson.  She  pointed  i 


downwards,  with  her  eyes  glaring: 
and  a  little  blood  was'  seen  to  bd 
trickling  slowly  over  Seaton's  stock- 
ing and  shoe. 

"  Wounded,"  said  the  General's 
servant,  Tom,  in  the  business-like 
accent  of  one  who  had  seen  a  thou- 
sand wounds. 

"O,  never  mind  that,"  said  Seaton. 
"It  can't  be  very  deep,  for  I  don't 
feel  it  " ;  then,  fixing  his  eyes  on 
General  Rolleston,  he  said,  in  a  A'oice 
that  broke  down  suddenly,  "  There 
stands  the  only  man  who  has  wounded 
me  to-night,  to  hurt  me." 

Tiie  way  General  Rolleston  re- 
ceived this  point-blank  reproach  sur- 
prised some  persons  present,  who  had 
observed  only  the  imperious  and  iron 
side  of  his  character.  He  hung  his 
head  in  silence  a  moment ;  then,  being 
discontented  with  himself,  he  went 
into  a  passion  with  his  servants  for 
standing  idle.  "  Run  away,  you  wo- 
men," said  he,  roughly.  "  Now,  Tom, 
if  you  are  good  for  anything,  strip  the 
man  and  stanch  his  wound.  An- 
drew, a  bottle  of  port,  quick  !  " 

Then,  leaving  him  for  a  while  in 
friendly  hands,  he  went  to  his  daugh- 
ter, and  asked  her  if  she  saw  any  ob- 
jection to  a  bed  being  made  up  in  the 
house  for  the  wounded  convict. 

"  0  papa,"  said  she,  "  why,  of 
course  not.  I  am  all  gratitude. 
What  is  he  like,  Wilson  ?  for  it  is  a 
most  provoking  thing,  I  never  no- 
ticed his  face,  only  his  beautiful  beard 
glittering  in  the  sunshine  ever  so  far 
off.  Poor  young  man  !  0  yes,  pa- 
pa !  send  him  to  bed  directl3-,  and  wo 
will  all  nurse  him.  I  never  did  any 
good  in  tlic  world  yet,  and  so  why 
not  begin  at  once  1 " 

General  Rolleston  laughed  at  this 
squirt  of  enthusiasm  from  his  staid 
daughter,  and  went  off  to  give  the 
requisite  orders. 

But  Wilson  followed  him  imme- 
diately and  stopped  him  in  the  pas- 
sage. 

"  If  you  please,  sir,  I  think  you  had 
better  not.  I  have  something  to  tell 
you."      She   then   communicated  to 


FOUL  PLAY. 


19 


him  by  degrees  her  suspicion  that 
James  Seaton  was  in  love  with  his 
daughter.  He  treated  this  with  due 
ridicule  at  tii'st ;  but  she  gave  him 
one  reason  after  another  till  she  stag- 
gered him,  and  he  went  down  stairs 
in  a  most  mixed  and  puzzled  frame 
of  mind,  inclined  to  laugh,  inclined 
to  be  angry,  inclined  to  be  sorry. 

The  officer  had  just  ai'rived,  and 
was  looking  over  some  photographs 
to  see  if  James  Seaton  was  "one  of 
his  birds."  Such,  alas !  was  his  ex- 
pression. 

At  sight  of  this  Rolleston  colored 
up  ;  but  extricated  himself  from  tlie 
double  difficulty  with  some  skill. 
"  Hexham,"  said  he,  "  this  poor  fellow 
has  behaved  like  a  man,  and  got  him- 
self wounded  in  my  service.  You 
are  to  take  him  to  the  infirmary ; 
but,  mind,  they  must  treat  him  like 
my  own  son,  and  nothing  he  asks  for 
be  denied  him." 

Seaton  walked  with  feeble  steps, 
and  leaning  on  two  men,  to  the  in- 
firmary ;  and  General  Rolleston  or- 
dered a  cup  of  coffee,  lighted  a  cigar, 
and  sat  cogitating  over  this  sti'ange 
business,  and  asking  himself  how  he 
could  get  rid  of  this  young  madman, 
and  yet  befriend  him.  As  for  Sarah 
Wilson,  she  went  to  bed  discontented, 
and  wondering  at  her  own  bad  judg- 
ment. She  saw,  too  late,  that,  if  she 
had  held  her  tongue,  Seaton  would 
have  been  her  patient  and  her  prison- 
er ;  and  as  for  Miss  Rolleston,  when 
it  came  to  the  point,  why,  she  would 
never  have  nursed  him  except  by 
proxy,  and  the  proxy  would  have 
been  Sarah  Wilson. 

However,  the  blunder  blind  passion 
had  led  her  into  was  partially  re- 
paired by  Miss  Rolleston  herself. 
When  she  heard,  next  day,  where 
Seaton  was  gone,  she  lifted  xip  her 
hands  in  amazement.  "  What  could 
papa  be  thinking  of  to  send  our  bene- 
factor to  a  hospital  1 "  And,  after 
meditating  awhile,  she  directed  Wil- 
son to  cut  a  nosegay  and  carry  it  to 
Seaton.  "  He  is  a  gardener,"  said 
she,  innocently.     "  Of  course  he  will 


miss  his  flowers  sadly  in  that  miser- 
able place." 

And  she  gave  the  same  order  every 
day,  with  a  constancy  that,  you  must 
know,  formed  part  of  this  young 
lady's  character.  Soup,  wine,  and 
jellies  were  sent  from  the  kitchen 
every  other  day  witli  equal  perti- 
nacity. 

Wilson  concealed  the  true  donor  of 
all  those  things,  and  took  the  credit 
to  herself.  By  this  means  she  ob- 
tained the  patient's  gratitude,  and  he 
showed  it  so  frankly,  she  hoped  to 
steal  his  love  as  well. 

But  no  !  his  fancy  and  his  heart 
remained  true  to  the  cold  beauty  he 
had  served  so  well,  and  she  had  for- 
gotten him,  apparently. 

This  irritated  Wilson  at  last,  and 
she  set  to  work  to  cure  him  with 
wholesome,  but  bitter  medicine.  She 
sat  down  beside  him  one  day,  and 
said,  cheerfully.  "We  are  all  'on 
the  keyfeet '  just  now.  Miss  Rolle- 
ston's  beau  is  come  on  a  visit." 

The  patient  opened  his  eyes  with 
astonishment. 

"  Miss  Rolleston's  bean  ?  " 

"  Ay,  her  intended.  What,  did  n't 
you  know,  she  is  engaged  to  be  mar- 
ried ?  " 

"  She  engaged  to  be  married  1 " 
gasped  Seaton. 

Wilson  watched  him  with  a  re- 
morseless eye. 

"  Why,  James,"  said  she,  after  a 
while,  "  did  you  think  the  likes  of 
her  would  go  through  the  world  with- 
out a  mate  1  " 

Seaton  made  no  reply  but  a  moan, 
and  lay  back  like  one  dead,  utterly 
crushed  by  this  cruel  blow. 

A  buxom  middle-aged  nurse  now 
came  up,  and  said,  with  a  touch  of 
severity,  "  Come,  my  good  girl,  no 
doubt  you  mean  well,  but  you  are 
doing  ill.  You  had  better  leave  him 
to  us  for  the  present." 

On  this  hint  Wilson  bounced  out, 
and  left  the  patient  to  his  misery. 

At  her  next  visit  she  laid  a  nose- 
gay on  his   bed,  and  gossiped  away. 


20 


FOUL  PLAY. 


talking  of  everything  in  the  world 
except  Miss  Kolleston. 

At  last  she  came  to  a  pause,  and 
Seaton  laid  his  hand  on  her  arm  di- 
rectly, and  looUiny  pitcously  in  her 
face  s])oke  his  first  word. 

"Does  she  love  him  '!  " 

"  What,  still  harping  on  her  ? " 
said  Wilson.  "  Well,  she  does  n't 
hate  him,  I  suppose,  or  she  would  not 
marry  him." 

"I'or  pity's  sake  don't  trifle  with 
me  !     Does  she  love  him  ?  " 

"  La,  James,  how  can  I  tell  ?  She 
may  n't  love  him  quite  as  much  as  I 
could  love  a  man  that  took  my  fan- 
cy "  Chere  she  cast  a  languishing 
glance  on  Seaton);  "but  I  see  no 
difference  between  her  and  other 
young  ladies.  Miss  is  very  fond  of  her 
papa,  for  one  thing ;  and  he  favors 
the  match.  Ay,  and  she  likes  her 
partner  well  enough  :  she  is  brighter 
like,  now  he  is  in  the  house,  and 
she  reads  all  her  friends'  letters 
to  him  ever  so  lovingly;  and  I  do 
notice  she  leans  on  him,  out  walking, 
a  trifle  more  than  there  is  any  need 
for." 

At  this  picture  James  Seaton 
writlied  in  his  bed  like  some  agonized 
creature  under  vivisection  ;  but  the 
woman,  spurred  by  jealousy,  and 
also  by  egotistical  passion,  had  no 
mer(!y  left  for  him. 

"  And  why  not  ?  "  continued  she  ; 
"  he  is  young,  and  handsome,  and 
rich,  and  he  dotes  on  her.  If  you 
are  really  her  friend,  you  ought  to 
be  glad  she  is  so  well  suited." 

At  this  admonition  the  tears  stood 
in  Scaton's  eyes,  and  after  a  while 
he  got  strength  to  say,  "  I  know  I 
ought,  I  know  it.  If  he  is  only 
worthy  of  her,  as  worthy  as  any  man 
could  be." 

"  That  he  is,  James.  Why,  I  '11 
be  bound  you  have  heard  of  him. 
It  is  young  Mr.  Wardlaw." 

Seaton  started  up  in  bed.  "  Who  ? 
Wardlaw  1  what  Wardlaw  ?  " 

"  What  Wardlaw  1  why,  the  great 
London  merchant,  his  son.  Least- 
ways he  manages  the  whole  concern 


now,  I  hear  ;  the  old  gentleman,  he 
is  retired,  by  all  accounts." 

"  CUKSE  HIM  !  CURSE  HIM  !  CURSE 

HIM  !  "  yelled  James  Seaton,  with 
his  eyes  glaring  fearfully,  and  both 
hands  beating  the  air. 

Sarah  Wilson  recoiled  with  alarm. 

"  That  angel  marry  /tim  .'  "  shrieked 
Seaton.  "Never,  while  I  live:  I'll 
throttle  him  with  these  hands  first." 

What  more  his  ungovernable  fury 
would  have  uttered  was  interrupted 
by  a  rush  of  nurses  and  attendants, 
and  Wilson  was  bundled  out  of  the 
place  with  little  ceremony. 

He  contrived,  however,  to  hurl  a 
word  after  her,  accompanied  with  a 
look  of  concentrated  rage  and  resolu- 
tion. 

"  Never,  I  tell   tou,  —  while 

I    LIVE." 

At  her  next  visit  to  the  hospital, 
Wilson  was  refused  admission  by  or- 
der of  the  Head  Surgeon.  She  left 
her  flowers  daily  all  the  same. 

After  a  few  days  she  thought  the 
matter  might  have  cooled,  and,  having 
a  piece  of  news  to  communicate  to 
Seaton,  with  respect  to  Arthur  Ward- 
law,  she  asked  to  see  that  patient. 

"  Left  the  hospital  this  morning," 
was  tlie  reply. 

"What,  cured?  " 

"  Why  not  ?  We  have  cured  worse 
cases  than  his." 

"  Where  has  he  gone  to  ?  Pray  tell 
me." 

"  O,  certainly."  And  inquiry  was 
made.  But  the  reply  was,  "  Left  no 
address." 

Sarah  Wilson,  like  many  other 
women  of  high  and  low  degree,  had 
swift  misgivings  of  mischief  to  come. 
She  was  taken  with  a  fit  of  trembling, 
and  had  to  sit  down  in  the  hall. 

And,  to  tell  the  truth,  she  had  cause 
to  tremble  ;  for  that  tongue  of  hers 
had  launched  two  wild  beasts,  —  Jeal- 
ousy and  Revenge. 

When  she  got  better  she  went  home, 
and,  coward-like,  said  not  a  word  to 
living  soul. 

That  day,  Arthur  Wardlaw  diued 


FOUL  PLAY. 


21 


with  General  Rolleston  and  Helen. 
They  were  to  be  alone  for  a  certain 
reason  ;  and  he  came  half  an  hour  be- 
fore dinner.  Helen  thought  he  would, 
and  was  ready  for  him  on  the  lawn. 

They  walked  arm-in-arm,  talking 
of  the'  happiness  before  them,  and  re- 
gretting a  temporaiy  separation  that 
was  to  intervene.  He  was  her  father's 
choice,  and  she  loved  her  father  devot- 
edly ;  he  was  her  male  property  ; 
and  young  ladies  like  that  sort  of 
property,  especially  when  they  see 
nothing  to  dislike  in  it.  He  loved 
her  passionately,  and  that  was  her 
due,  and  pleased  her  and  drew  a  gentle 
atlection,  if  not  a  passion,  from  her  in 
return.  Yes,  that  lovely  forehead  did 
come  very  near  young  Wardlaw's 
shoulder  more  than  once  or  twice,  as 
they  strolled  slowly  up  and  down  on 
the  soft  mossy  turf. 

And,  on  the  other  side  of  the  hedge 
that  bounded  the  lawn,  a  man  lay 
crouched  in  the  ditch,  and  saw  it  all 
with  gleaming  eyes. 

Just  before  the  affianced  ones  went 
in,  Helen  said,  "  I  have  a  little  favor 
to  ask  3'Ou,  dear.  The  poor  man, 
Seaton,  who  fought  the  robbers,  and 
was  wounded,  —  papa  says  he  is  a 
man  of  education,  and  wanted  to  be  a 
clerk  or  something.  Could  you  find 
him  a  place  ?  " 

"I  think  I  can,"  said  Wardlaw; 
"  indeed,  I  am  sure.  A  line  to  White 
and  Co.  will  do  it;  they  want  a  ship- 
ping clerk." 

"  O  how  good  you  are  ! "  said  Hel- 
en ;  and  lifted  her  face  all  beaming 
with  thanks. 

The  opportunity  was  tempting  ; 
the  lover  fond  :  two  faces  met  for  a' 
single  moment,  and  one  of  the  two 
burned  for  five  minutes  after. 

The  basilisk  eyes  saw  the  soft  col- 
lision ;  but  the  owner  of  those  eyes 
did  not  hear  the  words  that  earned 
him  that  torture.  He  lay  still  and 
bided  his  time. 

General  Rolleston's  house  stood 
clear  of  the  town  at  the  end  of  a 
short,  but  narrow  and  tortuous  lane. 


This  situation  had  tempted  the  bur- 
glars whom  Seaton  baflfled ;  and  now 
it  tempted  Seaton. 

Wardlaw  must  pass  that  way  on 
leaving  General  Rolleston's  house. 

At  a  bend  of  the  lane  two  twin 
elms  stood  out  a  foot  or  two  from  the 
hedge.  Seaton  got  behind  these  at 
about  ten  o'clock,  and  watched  for 
him  with  a  patience  and  immobility 
that  boded  ill. 

His  preparations  for  this  encounter 
were  singular.  He  had  a  close-shut- 
ting inkstand  and  a  pen,  and  one 
sheet  of  paper,  at  the  top  of  which  he 
had  written  "  Sydney,"  and  the  day 
of  tlie  month  and  year,  leaving  the 
rest  blank.  And  he  had  the  revolver 
with  which  he  had  shot  the  robber  at 
Helen  Rolleston's  window;  and  a 
barrel  of  that  arm  was  loaded  with 
swan  shot. 


CHAPTER  V. 

The  moon  went  down ;  the  stars 
shone  out  clearer. 

Eleven  o'clock  boomed  from  a 
church  clock  in  the  town. 

Wardlaw  did  not  come,  and  Seaton 
did  not  move  from  bis  ambush. 

Twelve  o'clock  boomed,  and  Ward- 
law  never  came,  and  Seaton  never 
moved. 

Soon  after  midnight,  General  Rolle- 
ston's hall  door  opened,  and  a  fig- 
ure appeared  in  a  hood  of  light.  Sea- 
ton's  eyes  gleamed  at  the  light,  for 
it  was  young  Wardlaw,  with  a  foot- 
man at  his  back  holding  a  lighted 
lamp. 

AYardlaw,  however,  seemed  in  no 
hurry  to  leave  the  house,  and  the  rea- 
son soon  appeared  ;  he  was  joined  by 
Helen  Rolleston,  and  she  was  equipped 
for  walking.  The  watcher  saw  her 
serene  face  shine  in  the  light.  The 
General  himself  came  next ;  and,  as 
they  left  the  door,  out  came  Tom  with 
a  blunderbuss,  and  brought  up  the 
rear.  Seaton  drew  behind  the  trees, 
and  postponed,  but  did  not  resign,  his 
purpose. 


22 


FOUL  PLAY. 


Steps  and  mnrmurings  came,  and 
passed  liiin,  and  receded. 

The  only  words  lie  caught  distinct- 
ly came  from  Wardlaw,  as  he  passed. 
"  It  is  nearly  hi<;h  tide.  I  fear  we 
must  make  haste." 

Seaton  followed  the  whole  party  at 
a  short  distance,  fc-eling  sure  they 
would  eventually  separate  and  give 
him  his  opportunity  with  Wardlaw. 

They  went  down  to  the  harbor  and 
took  a  boat ;  Seaton  came  nearer, 
and  learned  they  were  going  on  board 
the  great  steamer  bound  for  England, 
that  loomed  so  black,  with  monstrous 
eyes  of  fire. 

They  put  off,  and  Seaton  stood 
baffled. 

Presently  the  black  monster,  with 
enormous  eyes  of  fire,  spouted  her 
steam  like  a  Leviathan,  and  then  was 
still ;  next  the  smoke  puffed,  the 
heavy  paddles  revolved,  and  she 
rushed  out  of  the  harbor;  and  Seaton 
sat  down  upon  the  ground,  and  all 
seemed  ended.  Helen  gone  to  Eng- 
land !  Wardlaw  gone  witli  her  !  Love 
and  revenge  had  alike  eluded  him. 
He  looked  up  at  the  sky,  and  played 
with  the  pe'^bles  at  his  feet,  stupidly, 
stupidly.  He  wondered  why  he  was 
born  ;  why  he  consented  to  live  a  sin- 
gle minute  after  this.  His  angel  and 
his  demon  gone  home  together !  And 
be  left  here ! 

He  wrote  a  few  lines  on  the  paper 
be  had  intended  for  Wardlaw,  sprin- 
kled them  with  sand,  and  put  them  in 
bis  bosom,  then  stretched  himself  out 
with  a  weary  moan,  like  a  dying  dog, 
to  wait  the  flow  of  the  tide,  and,  with 
it.  Death.  Whetiier  or  not  bis  reso- 
lution or  bis  madness  could  have  car- 
ried him  so  far  cannot  be.  known,  for 
even  as  the  water  rippled  in,  and, 
trickling  under  his  back,  chilled  bim 
to  the  bone,  a  silvery  sound  struck  his 
ear.  He  started  to  bis  feet,  and  life 
and  its  joys  rushed  back  upon  bim. 
It  was  the  voice  of  the  woman  be 
loved  so  madly. 

Helen  Rollcston  was  on  the  water, 
coming  ashore  again  in  the  little 
boat. 


He  crawled,  like  a  lizard,  among 
the  boats  ashore  to  catch  a  siglit  of 
her  :  he  did  see  her,  was  near  her,  un- 
seen himself.  She  landed  with  iier 
father.  So  Wardlaw  was  gone  to 
England  without  her.  Seaton  trem- 
bled with  joy.  Presently  bis  goddess 
began  to  lament  in  the  prettiest  way. 
"Papa!  Papa!"  she  sighed,  "why 
must  friends  part  in  this  sad  world  ? 
Poor  Arthur  is  gone  from  me  ;  and, 
by  and  by,  I  shall  go  from  you,  my 
own  papa."  And  at  that  "prospect 
she  wept  gently. 

'•  Why,  you  foolish  child  !  "  said 
the  old  General,  tenderly,  "  what  mat- 
ters a  little  parting,  when  we  are  all 
to  meet  again,  in  dear  old  England. 
Well  then,  there,  have  a  cry  ;  it  will 
do  you  good."  He  patted  her  bead 
tenderly,  as  she  clung  to  his  warlike 
breast ;  and  she  took  him  at  his  word  ; 
the  tears  ran  swiftly  and  glistened  in 
the  very  starlight. 

But  O,  bow  Seaton's  heart  yearned 
at  all  this  ! 

What?  mustn't  lie  say  a  word  to 
comfort  her ;  he  who,  at  that  moment, 
would  have  thought  no  more  of  dying 
to  serve  her,  or  to  please  her,  than  be 
would  of  throwing  one  of  those  peb- 
bles into  that  slimy  water. 

Well,  her  pure  tears  somehow  cooled 
bis  hot  brain,  and  washed  his  soul, 
and  left  him  wondering  at  himself  and 
his  misdeeds  this  night.  His  guar- 
dian angel  seemed  to  go  by  and  wave 
her  dewy  wings,  and  fan  his  hot  pas- 
sions as  she  passed. 

He  kneeled  down  and  thanked  God 
be  bad  not  met  Arthur  Wardlaw  in 
that  dark  lane. 

Then  be  went  home  to  his  bumble 
lodgings,  and  there  Imried  himself; 
and  from  that  day  seldom  went  out, 
except  to  seek  employment.  He  soon 
obtained  it  as  a  copyist. 

Meantime  the  police  were  on  bis 
track,  employed  by  a  person  with  a 
gentle  disposition,  but  a  tenacity  of 
purpose  truly  remarkable. 

Great  was  Seaton's  uneasiness  when 
one  day  he  saw  Hexham  at  the  foot 
of  bis  stair;  greater  still,   when  the 


FOUL  PLAY. 


23 


officer's  quick  eye  caught  sight  of 
him,  and  his  light  foot  ascended  the 
stairs  directly.  He  felt  sure  Hexham 
had  lieard  of  his  lurking  about  Gen- 
eral Rolleston's  premises.  However, 
he  prepared  to  defend  himself  to  the 
uttermost. 

Hexham  came  into  his  room  with- 
out ceremony,  and  looking  mighty 
grim.  "  Well,  my  lad,  so  we  have 
got  you,  after  all." 

"  What  is  my  crime  now  1  "  asked 
Seatou,  sullenly. 

"  James,"  said  the  officer,  very  sol- 
emnly, "  it  is  an  unheard-of  crime  this 
time.  You  have  been  —  running  — 
away  —  from  a  pretty  girl.  Now  that 
is  a  mistake  at  all  times  ;  but,  when 
she  is  as  beautiful  as  a  angel,  and  rich 
enough  to  slip  a  fiver  into  Dick  Hex- 
ham's hands,  and  lay  him  on  your 
track,  what  is  the  use"?  Letter  for 
you,  my  man." 

Seaton  took  the  letter,  with  a 
puzzled  air.  It  was  written  in  a  clear 
but  feminine  hand,  and  slightly  scent- 
ed. 

The  writer,  in  a  few  polished  lines, 
excused  herself  for  taking  extraor- 
dinary means  to  find  jNIr.  Seaton ;  but 
hoped  he  would  consider  that  lie  had 
laid  her  under  a  deep  obligation,  and 
that  gratitude  will  sometimes  be  im- 
portunate. She  had  the  pleasure  to 
inform  him  that  the  office  of  shipping 
clerk  at  Messrs.  White  &  Co.'s  was  at 
his  service,  and  she  hoped  he  would 
take  it  without  an  hour's  further  delay, 
for  that  she  was  assured  tliat  many  per- 
sons had  risen  to  wealth  and  consid- 
eration in  the  colony  from  such  situa- 
tions. 

Then,  as  this  waiy  but  courteous 
young  lady  had  no  wish  to  enter  into 
a  correspondence  with  her  ex-gar- 
dener, she  added,  — 

"Mr.  Seaton  need  not  trouble  him- 
self to  reply  to  this  note.  A  simjjle 
'  yes '  to  Air.  Hexham  will  be  enoujzh, 
and  will  give  sincere  pleasure  to  Mr. 
Seaton's 
"  Obedient  servant  .nnd  well-wisher, 
"  Hklex  Anne  Rolleston." 


Seaton  bowed  his  head  over  this 
letter  iu  silent  but  deep  emotion. 

Hexham  respected  that  emotion,  and 
watched  him  v;ith  a  sort  of  vague 
sympathy. 

Seaton  lifted  his  head,  and  the  tears 
stood  thick  in  his  eyes.  Said  he,  in 
a  voice  of  exquisite  softness,  scarce 
above  a  whisper,  "  Tell  her,  '  yes '  and 
'  God  bless  her.'  Good  by.  I  want 
to  go  on  my  knees,  and  pray  God  to 
bless    her,   as   she    deserves.      Good 

by." 

Hexham  took  the  hint,  and  retired 

softly. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

White  and  Co.  stumbled  on  a 
treasure  in  James  Seaton.  Your 
colonial  clerk  is  not  so  narrow  and 
apathetic  as  your  London  clerk,  whose 
two  objects  seem  to  be,  to  learn  one 
department  only,  and  not  to  do  too 
much  in  that;  but  Seaton,  a  gentle- 
man and  a  scholar,  eclipsed  even  colo- 
nial clerks  in  this,  that  he  omitted  no 
opportunity  of  learning  the  whole 
business  of  White  and  Co.,  and  was 
also  animated  by  a  feverish  zeal,  that 
now  and  then  provoked  laughter  from 
clerks,  but  was  agreeable,  as  well  as 
surprising,  to  White  and  Co.  Of  that 
zeal,  his  incurable  passion  was  partly 
the  cause.  Fortunes  had  been  made 
with  great  rapidity  in  Sydney ;  and 
Seaton  now  conceived  a  wild  hope  of 
acquiring  one,  by  some  lucky  hit,  be- 
fore Wardlaw  could  return  to  Helen 
Rolleston.  And  yet  his  common 
sense  said,  if  I  was  as  rich  as  Croesus, 
how  could  she  ever  mate  with  me,  a 
stained  man.  And  yet  his  burning 
heart  said,  don't  listen  to  reason ; 
listen  only  to  me.     Try. 

And  so  he  worked  double  tides ; 
and,  in  virtue  of  his  University  educa- 
tion, had  no  snobbish  notions  about 
never  putting  his  hand  to  manual 
labor :  he  would  lay  down  his  pen  at 
any  moment,  and  bear  a  hand  to  lift 
a  chest,  or  roll  a  cask.  Old  White 
saw  him  thus  multiply  himself,  and 


24 


FOUL  PLAY. 


was  so  pleased  that  he  raised  his 
salary  one  third. 

He  never  saw  Helen  Rollcston,  ex- 
cept on  Sunday.  On  that  day  he 
went  to  her  church,  and  sat  half  be- 
hind a  pillar,  and  feasted  his  eyes  and 
his  heart  upon  her.  He  lived  spar- 
ingly, saved  money,  hou^ht  a  strip 
of  land  by  payment  of  .£10  deposit, 
and  sold  it  in  forty  hours  for  £  100 

f)rofit,  and  watched  keenly  for  simi- 
ar  opportunities  on  a  larjjer  scale ; 
and  all  for  her.  Struggling  with 
a  mountain  :  hoping  against  reason, 
and  the  world. 

White  and  Co.  were  employed  to 
ship  a  valuable  cai-go  on  board  two 
vessels  chartei-ed  ity  Wardlaw  and 
Son ;  the  Shannon  and  Proserpine. 

Both  these  ships  lay  in  Sydney 
harbor,  and  had  taken  in  the  bulk 
of  their  cargoes ;  but  the  supple- 
ment was  the  cream ;  for  Wardlaw, 
in  person,  had  warehoused  eighteen 
cases  of  gold  dust  and  ingots,  and 
fifty  of  lead  and  smelted  copper. 
They  were  all  examined,  and  brand- 
ed, by  Mr.  White,  who  had  duplicate 
keys  of  the  gold  cases.  But  the  con- 
tents as  a  matter  of  habit  and  pru- 
dence were  not  described  outside  ;  but 
were  marked  Proserpine  and  Shan- 
non, respectively ;  the  mate  of  the 
Proserpine,  who  was  in  Wardlaw's 
confidence,  had  written  instructions 
to  look  carefully  to  the  stowage  of  all 
these  cases,  and  was  in  and  out  of 
the  store  one  afternoon  just  before 
closing,  and  measured  the  cubic  con- 
tents of  the  cases,  with  a  view  to 
stowage  in  the  respective  vessels. 
The  hist  time  he  came  he  seemed 
rather  the  worse  for  liquor ;  and 
Seaton,  who  accompanied  him,  hav- 
ing stepped  out  for  a  minute  for 
something  or  other,  was  rather  sur- 
prised on  his  return  to  find  the  door 
closed,  and  it  struck  him  Mr.  Wylie 
(that  was  the  mate's  name)  might  be 
inside ;  the  more  so  as  the  door 
closed  very  easily  with  a  spring  bolt, 
but  it  could  only  be  opened  by  a  key 
of  peculiar  construction.    Seaton  took 


out  his  key,  opened  the  door,  and 
called  to  the  mate  :  but  received  no 
reply.  However,  he  took  the  pre- 
caution to  go  round  the  store,  and 
see  whether  Wylie,  rendered  somno- 
lent by  liquor,  might  not  be  lying 
oblivious  among  the  cases ;  Wylie, 
however,  was  not  to  be  seen,  and  Sea- 
ton finding  himself  alone  did  an  un- 
wise thing ;  he  came  and  contem- 
plated Wardlaw's  cases  of  metal  and 
specie.  (Men  will  go  too  near  the 
thing  that  causes  their  pain.)  He 
eyed  them  with  grief  and  with  desire, 
and  could  not  restrain  a  sigh  at  these 
material  proofs  of  his  rival's  wealth  : 
the  wealth  that  probably  had  smoothed 
his  wa}'  to  General  Kolleston's  home, 
and  to  bis  daughter's  heart ;  for 
wealth  can  ))ave  the  way  to  hearts, 
ay,  even  to  hearts  that  cannot  be 
downright  bought.  This  revery,  no 
doubt,  lasted  longer  than  he  thought, 
for  presently  be  heard  the  loud  rattle 
of  shutters  going  up  below  :  it  was 
closing  time ;  he  hastily  closed  and 
locked  the  iron  shutters,  and  then 
went  out  and  shut  the  door. 

He  had  been  gone  about  two  hours, 
and  that  part  of  the  street,  so  noisy 
in  business  hours,  was  hushed  in 
silence,  all  but  an  occasional  footstep 
on  the  flags  outside,  when  something 
mysterious  occurred  in  the  warehouse, 
now  as  dark  as  ))itch. 

At  an  angle  of  the  wall  stood  two 
large  cases  in  a  vertical  position,  with 
smaller  cases  lying  at  their  feet :  these 
two  cases  were  about  eight  feet  higli, 
more  or  less.  Well,  behind  these 
cases  suddenly  flashed  a  feeble  light, 
and  the  next  moment  two  brown  and 
sinewy  hands  appeared  on  the  edge 
of  one  of  the  cases,  —  the  edge  next 
the  wall ;  the  case  vibrated  and  rocked 
a  little,  and  the  next  moment  there 
mounted  on  the  top  of  it  not  a  cat, 
nor  a  monkey,  as  might  have  been 
exj)ected,  but  an  animal  that  in  truth 
resembles  both  these  quadrupeds,  viz. 
a  sailor  ;  and  need  we  say  that  sailor 
was  the  mate  of  the  Pi'oserpine  ?  Ho 
descended  lightly  from  the  top  of  the 
case    behind    which    he     had     been 


FOUL   PLAY. 


25 


jiimmctl  for  hours,  and  lighted  a  dark 
lantern ;  and  went  softly  groping 
about  tlie  store  with  it. 

Tliis  was  a  mysterious  act,  and 
would  perhaps  have  puzzled  the  pro- 
prietors of  the  store  even  more  than  it 
would  a  straiif^er :  for  a  stranger 
would  have  said  at  once  this  is  bui-- 
glary,  or  else  arson  ;  but  those  ac- 
quainted with  the  place  would  have 
known  that  neither  of  those  crimes 
was  very  practicable.  Tiiis  enter- 
prising sailor  could  not  burn  down 
tills  particular  store  without  roasting 
himself  tiic  tirst  thing  ;  and  indeed  he 
could  not  burn  it  down  at  all ;  for  the 
roof  was  flat,  and  was  in  fact  one 
gigantic  iron  tank,  like  the  roof  of 
Mr.  Coding's  brewery  in  London : 
and,  by  a  neat  contrivance  of  Amer- 
ican origin,  the  whole  tank  could  be 
turned  in  one  moment  to  a  shower- 
bath,  and  drown  a  conflagration  in 
thirty  seconds  or  thereabouts.  Nor 
could  he  rifle  the  place;  the  goods 
were  greatly  protected  by  their  weigiit, 
and  it  was  impossible  to  get  out  of  the 
store  without  raising  an  alarm,  and 
being  searched. 

But,  not  to  fall  into  the  error  of 
writers  who  underrate  their  readers' 
curiosity  and  intelligence,  and  so  del- 
uge them  with  comments  and  explana- 
tions, we  will  now  simply  relate  what 
Wylie  did,  leaving  yoa  to  glean  his 
motives  as  this  tale  advances.  His 
j:icket  liad  large  pockets,  and  he  took 
out  of  them  a  bunch  of  eighteen  bright 
steel  keys,  numbered,  a  set  of  new 
screw-drivers,  a  flask  of  rum,  and  two 
ship  biscuits. 

He  unlocked  the  eighteen  cases 
marked  Proser[)ine,  &c.,  and,  peering 
in  witli  his  lantern,  saw  the  gold  dust 
ami  small  inojots  ]mcked  in  parcels, 
and  surrounded  by  Australian  wool 
of  the  highest  possible  quality.  It 
was  a  luscious  sight. 

He  then  proceeded  to  a  heavier 
task  ;  he  unscrewed,  one  after  another, 
eighteen  of  the  cases  marked  Shan- 
non, and  the  eighteen  so  selected, 
perha])s  by  private  marks,  proved  to 
be  packed   close,  and  on  a  ditferent 


system  from  the  gold,  viz.  in  pigs,  or 
square  blocks,  three,  or  in  some  cases 
four,  to  each  chest.  Now,  these  two 
ways  of  packing  the  specie  and  the 
baser  metal,  respectively,  had  the 
eit'ect  of  producing  a  certain  uniform- 
ity of  weight  in  the  thirt^'-six  cases 
Wylie  was  inspecting :  otherwise  the 
gold  cases  would  have  been  twice  the 
weight  of  those  that  contained  the 
baser  metal ;  for  lead  is  proverbially 
heavy,  but  uiuler  scientific  tests  is  to 
gold  as  five  to  twelve,  or  thereabouts. 

In  his  secret  and  mysterious  labor 
Wylie  was  often  interru])ted.  When- 
ever he  heard  a  step  on  the  pavement 
outside,  he  drew  the  slide  of  his  lan- 
tern and  hid  the  light.  If  he  had 
examined  the  iron  shutters,  he  would 
have  seen  that  his  light  could  never 
pierce  through  them  into  the  street. 
But  he  was  not  aware  of  this.  Not- 
withstanding these  occasional  inter- 
ruptions, he  worked  so  hard  and 
continuously,  that  the  perspiration 
poured  down  him  ere  he  had  un- 
screwed those  eighteen  chests  contain- 
ing the  pigs  of  lead.  However,  it 
was  done  at  last,  and  then  ho  re- 
freshed himself  with  a  draught  from 
his  flask.  The  next  thing  was,  he 
took  the  three  pigs  of  lead  out  of  one 
of  the  cases  marked  Shannon,  &c., 
and  numbered  fifteen,  and  laid  them 
very  gently  on  the  floor.  Then  he 
transferred  to  that  empty  case  the 
mixed  contents  of  a  case  branded 
Proserpine  1,  &c.,  and  this  he  did 
with  the  utmost  care  and  nicety,  lest 
gold  dust  spilled  should  tell  tales. 
And  so  he  went  on  and  amused  him- 
self by  shifting  the  contents  of  the 
whole  eighteen  cases  marked  Proser- 
pine, &c.,  into  eighteen  cases  marked 
Shannon,  &c.,  and  refilling  them  with 
the  Shannon's  lead.  Frolicsome  Mr. 
Wylie  !  Then  he  sat  down  on  one 
of  the  cases  Proserpined,  and  ate  a 
biscuit  and  drank  a  little  rum ;  not 
much  :  for  at  this  part  of  his  career 
he  was  a  very  sober  man,  though  he 
could  feign  drunkenness,  or  indeed 
anything  else. 

The  gold  was  all  at  his  mercy,  yet 


26 


FOUL  PLAY. 


he  did  not  pocket  an  ounce  of  it ;  not 
even  a  pcnnyweij^ht  to  make  a  wed- 
ding-rin<^  for  Nancy  Kouse.  Mr. 
Wylie  had  a  conscience.  And  a  very 
original  one  it  was ;  and,  aljove  all, 
he  was  very  true  to  those  he  worked 
with.  He  carefully  locked  the  gold 
cases  up  again,  and  resumed  the 
screw-driver,  for  there  was  another 
heavy  stroke  of  work  to  be  done ;  and 
he  went  at  it  like  a  man.  He  care- 
fully screwed  down  again,  one  after 
another,  all  those  eighteen  cases 
marked  Shannon,  which  he  had  filled 
with  gold  dust,  and  then,  heating  a 
sailor's  needle  red-hot  over  his  burn- 
ing wick,  he  put  his  own  secret  marks 
on  those  eighteen  cases,  —  marks  that 
no  eye  but  his  own  could  detect.  By 
this  time,  though  a  very  powerful 
man,  he  felt  much  exhausted,  and 
would  gladly  have  snatched  an  hour's 
repose.  But,  consulting  his  watch 
by  the  light  of  his  lantern,  he  found 
the  sun  had  just  risen.  He  retired  to 
his  place  of  concealment  in  tlie  same 
cat-like  way  he  had  come  out  of  it,  — 
that  is  to  say,  he  mounted  on  the 
high  cases,  and  then  slipt  down  be- 
hind them,  into  the  angle  of  the  wall. 

As  soon  as  the  office  opened,  two 
sailors,  whom  he  had  carefully  in- 
structed overnight,  came  with  a  boat 
for  the  cases ;  the  warehouse  was 
opened  in  consequence,  but  they  were 
informed  that  Wylie  must  be  present 
at  the  delivery. 

"  O,  he  won't  be  long,"  said  they  ; 
"  told  us  he  would  meet  us  here." 

There  was  a  considerable  delay,  and 
a  good  deal  of  talking,  and  ])resently 
Wylie  was  at  their  backs,  and  put  in 
liis  word. 

Seaton  was  greatly  surprised  at 
finding  him  there,  and  asked  him 
where  he  had  sprung  from. 

"  Me ! "  said  Wylie,  jocosely,  "  why, 
I  hailed  from  IJavy  Jones's  locker 
last." 

"  I  never  heard  you  come  in,"  said 
Seaton,  thoughtfully. 

"  Well,  sir,"  replied  Wylie,  civilly, 
"  a  man  docs  learn  to  go  like  a  cat  on 
board  ship,  that  is  the  truth.     I  came 


in  at  the  door  like  my  betters  ;  but  I 
thought  I  heard  you  mention  my 
name,  so  I  made  no  noise.  Well, 
here  I  am,  anyway,  and  —  Jach,  how 
many  trips  can  we  take  these  thunder- 
ing chests  in  ?  Let  us  see,  eighteen 
for  the  Proscrjjinc,  and  forty  for  the 
Shannon.     Is  that  correct,  sir  1 " 

"  Perfectly." 

"Tlien,  if  you  will  deliver  them, 
I  '11  check  the  delivery  aboard  the 
lighter  there  ;  and  then  we  '11  tow  her 
alongside  the  ships." 

Seaton  called  up  two  more  clerks, 
and  sent  one  to  the  boat,  and  one  on 
board  the  barge.  The  barge  was 
within  hail ;  so  the  cases  were  checked 
as  they  passed  out  of  the  store,  and 
ciiecked  again  at  the  small  boat,  and 
also  on  board  the  lighter.  When 
they  were  all  cleared  out,  AVylie  gave 
Seaton  his  receipt  for  them,  and,  hav- 
ing a  steam-tug  in  attendance,  towed 
the  hghter  alongside  the  Shannon 
first. 

Seaton  carried  the  receipt  to  his 
employer. 

"  But,  sir,"  said  he,  "  is  this  regular 
for  an  officer  pf  the  Proserpine  to  take 
the  Shannon's  cargo  from  us  'i  " 

"No,  it  is  not  regular,"  said  the  old 
gentleman  ;  and  he  looked  through  a 
window,  and  summoned  Mr.  Hard- 
castle. 

Hardcastle  explained  that  the  Pro- 
serpine shi])ped  the  gold,  which  was 
the  more  valuable  consignment ;  and 
that  he  saw  no  harm  in  the  officer  who 
was  so  highly  trusted  by  the  merehant 
(on  this  and  on  former  occasions) 
taking  out  a  few  tons  of  lead  and  cop- 
per to  the  Shannon. 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  Seaton,  "suppose 
I  was  to  go  out  and  see  the  chests 
stowed  in  tliosc  vessels  1 " 

"  I  think  you  are  making  a  fuss 
about  nothing,"  said  Hardcastle. 

Mr.  White  Avas  of  the  same  opinion, 
but,  being  too  wise  to  check  zeal  and 
caution,  told  Seaton  he  might  go  for 
his  own  satisfaction. 

Seaton,  with  some  difficulty,  got  a 
little  boat  and  pulled  across  the  har- 
bor.    He    found    the    Shannon    had 


FOUL  PLAY. 


27 


shipped  all  the  chests  marked  with 
her  name  ;  and  the  captain  and  mate 
of  the  Proserpine  were  beginning  to 
ship  theirs.  He  paddled  under  the 
Proserpine's   stern. 

Captain  Hudson,  a  rough  salt,  sang 
otit,  and  asked  him  roughly  what  he 
wanted  there. 

"  0,  it  is  all  right,"  said  the  mate ; 
"  he  is  come  for  your  receipt  and 
Hewitt's.  Be  smart  now,  men  ;  two 
on  board,  sixteen  to  come." 

Seaton  saw  the  chests  marked  Pro- 
serpine stowed  in  tlie  Proserpine,  and 
went  ashore  with  Captain  Hewitt's 
receipt  of  forty  cases  on  board  the 
Sliannon,  and  Captain  Hudson's  of 
eighteen  on  board  the  Proserpine. 

As  he  landed  lie  met  Lloyd's  agent, 
and  told  him  wliat  a  valuable  freight 
he  had  just  sliipped.  Tiiat  gentleman 
merely  remarked  that  both  ships  were 
underwritten  in  Sydney  by  the  own- 
ers ;  but  the  freight  was  insured  in 
London,  no  doubt. 

There  was  still  something  about 
this  business  Seaton  did  not  quite 
like ;  perhaps  it  was  in  the  haste  of 
the  shipments,  or  in  the  manner  of 
the  mate.  At  all  events,  it  was  too 
slight  and  subtle  to  be  communicated 
to  others  with  any  hope  of  convincing 
them  ;  and,  moreover,  Seaton  could 
not  but  own  to  himself  that  he  hated 
Wardlaw,  and  was,  perhaps,  no  fair 
judge  of  his  acts,  and  even  of  the  acts 
of  his  servants. 

And  soon  a  blow  fell  that  drove  the 
matter  out  of  his  head  and  his  heart. 
Miss  Helen  Rolleston  called  at  the 
office,  and,  standing  within  a  few  feet 
of  him,  handed  Hardcastle  a  letter 
from  Arthur  Wardlaw,  directing  that 
the  ladies'  cabin  on  board  the  Shan- 
non should  be  placed  at  her  disposal. 

Hardcastle  bowed  low  to  Beauty 
and  Station,  and  promised  her  the 
best  possible  accommodation  on  board 
the  Shannon,  bound  for  England  next 
week. 

As  she  retired,  she  cast  one  quiet 
glance  round  the  office  in  search  of 
Seaton's  beard.  But  he  had  reduced 
its  admired  luxuriance,  and  trimmed 


it  to  a  narrow  mercantile  point.  She 
did  not  know  liis  other  featiu'cs  from 
Adam,  and  little  thought  that  young 
man,  bent  double  over  his  paper,  was 
her  preserver  and  protege ;  still  less 
that  he  was  at  this  moment  cold  as 
ice,  and  quivering  with  misery  from 
head  to  foot,  because  her  own  lips  had 
just  told  him  she  was  going  to  Eng- 
land in  the  Shannon. 

Heart-broken,  but  still  loving  nobly, 
Seaton  dragged  himself  down  to  the 
harbor,  and  went  slowly  on  board  the 
Shannon  to  secure  Miss  Rolleston 
every   comfort. 

Then,  sick  at  heart  as  he  was,  he 
made  inquiries  into  the  condition  of 
the  vessel  which  was  to  be  trusted 
with  so  precious  a  freight ;  and  the 
old  boatman  who  was  rowing  him, 
hearing  him  make  these  inquiries, 
told  him  he  himself  was  always  about, 
and  had  noticed  the  Shannon's  pumps 
were  going  every  blessed  night. 

Seaton  carried  this  intelligence  di- 
rectly to  Lloyd's  agent ;  he  over- 
hauled the  ship,  and  ordered  her  into 
the  graving  dock  for  repairs. 

Then  Seaton,  for  White  and  Co., 
wrote  to  Miss  Eolleston  that  the 
Sliannon  was  not  sea-worthy  and  could 
not  sail  for  a  month,  at  the  least. 

The  lady  simply  acknowledged 
Messrs.  White's  communication,  and 
Seaton  breathed  again. 

Wardlaw  had  made  Miss  Rolles- 
ton promise  him  faithfully  to  sail 
that  month  in  his  ship  the  Shannon. 
Xow,  she  was  a  slave  to  her  word, 
and  constant  of  purpose  ;  so  when 
she  found  she  could  not  sail  in  the 
Shannon,  she  called  again  on  Messrs. 
White,  and  took  her  passage  in  the 
Proserpine.  The  essential  thing  to  her 
mind  was  to  sail  when  she  had  prom- 
ised, and  to  go  in  a  ship  that  belonged 
to  her  lover. 

The  Proserpine  was  to  sail  in  ten 
days. 

Seaton  inquired  into  the  state  of 
the  Proserpine.  She  was  a  good, 
sound  vessel,  and  thera  was  no  excuse 
for  detaining  her. 


28 


FOUL   PLAY. 


Then  he  wrestled  long  and  hard 
with  the  selfish  part  of  his  orcat 
love.  Instead  of"  turning  sullon,  he 
set  himself  to  carry  out  Helen  llol- 
Icston's  will.  He  wunt  on  board 
the  Proserpine  and  chose  her  the  best 
Stern-cabin. 

General  Rollcston  had  ordered 
Helen's  cabin  to  be  furnished,  and 
the  agent  had  put  in  tiie  usual  tilings, 
such  as  a  standing  bedstead  with 
drawers  beneath,  chest  of  drawers, 
small  table,  two  chairs,  wash-stand, 
looking-glass,  and  swindling  lamp. 

But  Seaton  made  several  visits  to 
the  ship,  and  effected  the  following 
arrangements  at  ins  own  cost.  He 
provided  a  neat  cocoa  mat  for  lier 
cabin  deck,  for  comfort  and  foothold  : 
he  unshipped  the  regular  six-paned 
stern  windows,  and  put  in  single  pane 
plate  glass  ;  he  fitted  Venetian  blinds, 
and  hung  two  little  rose-colored  cur- 
tains to  each  of  the  windows  ;  all  so 
arranged  as  to  be  easily  removed  in 
case  it  should  be  necessary  to  ship 
dead-liglits  in  heavy  weather.  He 
glazed  the  door  leading  to  her  bath- 
room and  quarter-gallery  with  plate 
glass  ;  he  provided  a  light  easy-chair, 
slung  and  fitted  with  grommets,  to  be 
hnng  on  hooks  screwed  into  the 
beams  in  the  midsliip  of  the  cabin. 
On  this  Helen  could  sit  and  read, 
and  so  become  insensible  to  the  mo- 
tion of  the  ship.  He  fitted  a  small 
bookcase,  with  a  button,  whicli  conld 
be  raised  when  a  book  might  be  want- 
ed ;  he  fixed  a  strike-bell  in  h'?r 
maid's  cabin,  communicating  with 
two  strikers  in  Helen's  cabin ;  he 
selected  books,  taking  care  that  the 
voyages  and  travels  were  prosperous 
ones.  No  "  Seaman's  Ixeccjrder," 
"Life-boat  Journal,"  or"  Shipwrecks 
and  Disasters  in  the  British  Navy." 

Her  cabin  was  the  after-cabin  on 
the  starboard  side,  was  entered 
through  the  cuddy,  had  a  door  com- 
municating with  the  quarter-gallery, 
two  stern  windows,  and  a  dead-eye 
on  deck.  The  nuiid's  cabin  was  tlie 
port  after-cabin ;  doors  opened  into 
cuddy  and  quarter-gallery.      And  a 


fine  trouble  Miss  Eolleston  had  to 
get  a  maid  to  accompany  her  ;  but 
at  last  a  young  woman  ofl'ereil  to  go 
with  her  for  hijrh  wages,  demurely 
suppressing  the  fact  that  she  had  just 
married  one  of  the  sailors,  and  would 
have  gladly  gone  for  nothing.  •  Her 
name  was  Jane  Holt,  and  lier  hus- 
band's Michael  Donovan. 

In  one  of  Seaton's  visits  to  the 
Proserpine  he  detected  the  mate  and 
the  captain  talking  together,  and 
looking  at  him  with  unfriendly  eyes, 
—  scowling  at  him  would  hardly  be 
too  strong  a  word. 

However,  he  was  in  no  state  of 
mind  to  care  much  how  two  animals 
in  blue  jackets  received  his  acts  of 
self-martyrdom.  He  was  there  to  do 
the  last  kind  offices  of  despairing 
love  for  the  angel  that  had  crossed 
his  dark  path,  and  illumined  it  for 
a  moment,  to  leave  it  now  forever. 

At  last  tlie  fatal  evening  came;  her 
last  in  Sydney. 

Then  Seaton's  fortitude,  sustained 
no  longer  by  the  feverish  stimulus  of 
doing  kindly  acts  for  her,  began  to 
give  way,  and  he  desponded  dec])ly. 

At  nine  in  the  evening  he  crept 
upon  General  Kolleston's  lawn,  wlierc 
he  had  first  seen  her.  He  sat  down  in 
sullen  despair,  upon  the  very  spot. 

Tlien  he  came  nearer  the  house. 
There  was  a  lamp  in  the  dining-room ; 
he  looked  in  and  saw  her. 

She  was  seated  at  her  father's  knee, 
looking  up  at  him  fondly ;  her  hand 
was  in  his  ;  the  tears  were  in  their 
eyes  ;  she  had  no  mother ;  he  no  son  ; 
they  loved  one  another  devotedly. 
This,  their  tender  gesture,  and  their 
sad  silence,  spoke  volumes  to  any  one 
that  had  known  sorrow.  Poor  Sea- 
ton  sat  down  on  the  dewy  grass  out- 
side, and  wept,  because  she  was  weep- 
inji. 

Her  father  sent  her  to  bed  early. 
Seaton  watched,  as  he  Inul  often  done 
before,  till  her  li^iht  went  out;  and 
then  lie  flung  himself  on  the  wet 
grass,  and  stared  at  tlic  sky  in  utter 
misery. 


FOUL   PLAY. 


29 


The  mind  is  often  clearest  in  the 
middle  of  the  night ;  and  all  of  a  sud- 
den, he  saw,  as  if  written  on  the  sky, 
that  she  was  going  to  England  ex- 
pressly to  marry  Arthur  Wardhiw. 

At  this  revelation  he  started  up, 
stung  with  iiatc  as  well  as  love,  and 
his  tortured  mind  rebelled  furiously. 
He  repeated  his  vow  that  this  siiould 
never  be ;  and  soon  a  scheme  came 
into  his  head  to  prevent  it ;  but  it  was 
a  project  so  wild  and  dangerous,  that, 
even  as  his  heated  brain  hatched  it, 
his  cooler  judgment  said,  "Fly,  nrad- 
man,  fly  1  or  this  love  will  destroj 
you  !  " 

He  listened  to  the  voice  of  reason, 
and  in  another  minute  he  was  out 
of  the  premises.  He  fluttered  to  his 
lodgings. 

When  he  got  there  he  could  not  go 
in  ;  he  turned  and  fluttered  about  the 
streets,  not  knowing  or  caring  whither ; 
his  mind  was  in  a  whirl ;  and,  what 
with  his  bodily  fever  and  his  boiling 
heart,  passion  began  to  overpower 
reason,  that  had  held  out  so  gallantly 
till  now.  He  found  himself  at  liie 
harbor,  staring  with  wild  and  blood- 
shot eyes  at  the  Proserpine,  he  who, 
an  hour  ago,  had  seen  that  ho  had  but 
one  thing  to  do,  —  to  try  and  forget 
young  Wardlaw's  bride.  He  groaned 
aloud,  and  ran  wildly  back  into  the 
town.  He  hurried  up  and  down  one 
narrow  street,  raging  inwardly,  like 
some  wild  beast  in  its  den. 

By  and  by  his  mood  changed,  and 
he  hung  round  a  lamp-post,  and  fell 
to  moaning  and  lamenting  his  hard 
fate,  and  iiers. 

A  policeman  came  up,  took  him  for 
a  maudlin  drunkard,  and  half  advised, 
half  admonishei.1,  hinr  to  go  home. 

At  that  he  gave  a  sort  of  fierce, 
despairing  snarl,  and  ran  into,  the 
next  street,  to  be  alone. 

In  this  street  he  found  a  shop  open, 
and  lighted,  though  it  was  but  five 
o'clock  in  the  morning.  It  was  a 
barber's,  whose  customers  were  work- 
ing people.  Haircuttixg,  six- 
pence. Easy  shaving,  three- 
pence.    Hot   coffee,   foukpence 


THE  CUP.  Seaton's  eye  fell  upon  this 
shop.  He  looked  at  it  fixedly  a  mo- 
ment from  the  oi)posite  side  of  the 
way,  and  then  hurried  on. 

He  turned  suddeidy  and  came  back. 
He  crossed  the  road  and  entered  the 
shop.  The  barber  was  leaning  over 
the  stove,  removing  a  can  of  boiling 
water  from  the  fire  to  the  hob.  He 
turned  at  the  sound  of  Seaton's  step, 
and  revealed  an  ugly  countenance, 
rendered  sinister  by  a  squint. 

Scaton  dropped  into  a  chair,  and 
said,  "  I  want  my  beard  taken  off." 

The  man  looked  at  him,  if  it  could 
be  called  looking  at  him,  and  said, 
dryly,  "  0,  do  ye  ?  How  much  am  I 
to  "have  for  that  job  ^  " 

"  You  know  your  own  charge." 
"  Of  course   I    do :    threepence   a 
chin." 

"  Very  well.     Be  quick  then." 
"  Stop  a  bit :  that  is  my  charge  to 
working   folk.      I   must  have   some- 
thing more  off  you." 

"Very  well,  man,  I'll  pay  you 
double." 

"  My  price  to  you  is  ten  shillings." 

"Why,  what  is  that  for?"    asked 

Seaton,  in  some  alarm  ;  he  thought, 

in  his  confusion,  the  man  must  have 

read  his  heart. 

"  I  '11  tell  ye  why,"  said  the  squint- 
ing barber.  "  No,  I  won't :  I  '11  show 
ye."  He  brought  a  small  mirror, 
and  suddenly  clapped  it  before  Sea- 
ton's eyes.  Seaton  started  at  his  own 
image  ;  wild,  ghastly,  and  the  eyes  so 
bloodshot.  The  barber  chuckled. 
This  start  was  an  extorted  compli- 
ment to  his  own  sagacity.  "  Now 
wasn't  I  right?"  said  he;  "did  I 
ought  to  take  tlie  beard  off  such  a 
mug  as  that  —  for  less  than  ten  shil- 
lings ?  " 

"I  see,"  groaned  Seaton;  "you 
think  I  liave  committed  some  crime. 
One  man  sees  me  weeping  with  mis- 
ery ;  he  calls  me  a  drunkard  ;  anotiier 
sees  me  pale  with  the  anguish  of  my 
breaking  heart ;  lie  calls  me  a  felon  : 
may  God's  curse  light  on  him  and 
you,  and  all  mankind  !  " 

"  All    right,"    said   the    squinting 


30 


FOUL  PLAY. 


barber,  apathetically  ;  "  my  price  is 
ten  bob,  whether  or  no." 

Scaton  folt  in  liis  pockets.  "  I 
have  not  got  the  money  about  me," 
said  he. 

"  0,  I  'ra  not  particular ;  leave 
your  watch." 

Seaton  handed  the  squinting  vam- 
pire his  watch  without  another  word, 
and  let  his  head  Call  ujion  his  breast. 

Tlie  barber  cut  his  beard  close  with 
the  scissors,  and  made  trivial  remarks 
from  time  to  time,  but  received  no  re- 
ply. 

At  last.  Extortion  having  put  him 
in  a  good  humor,  he  said,  "  Don't  be 
go  down-hearted,  my  lad.  You  are 
not  the  first  that  has  got  into  trouble, 
and  had  to  change  faces." 

Seaton  vouchsafed  no  reply. 

The  barber  shaved  him  clean,  and 
■was  astonished  at. the  change,  and 
congratulated  him.  "  Nobody  will 
ever  know  you,"  said  he  ;  "  and  I  '11 
tell  you  why  ;  your  mouth,  it  is  in- 
clined to  turn  up  a  little  ;  now  a  mus- 
tache it  bends  down,  and  that  alters 
such  a  mouth  as  yours  entirely.  But, 
I'll  tell  you  what,  taking  off  this 
beard  shows  mo  something  :  you  are 
a  gentleman  !  !  Make  it  a  sovereign, 
sir." 

Scaton  staggered  out  of  the  place 
•without  a  word. 

"  Sulky,  ch  1  "  muttered  the  bar- 
ber. He  gathered  up  some  of  the 
long  hair  he  had  cut  off  Seaton's  chin 
with  his  scissors,  admired  it,  and  put 
it  away  in  paper. 

While  thus  employed,  a  regular 
customer  looked  in  for  his  cup  of  cof- 
fee. It  was  the  policeman  who  had 
taken  Seaton  for  a  convivial  soul. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

General  Rolleston's  servants 
made  several  trips  to  the  Proserpine, 
carrying  boxes,  etc. 

But  Helen  herself  clung  to  the 
house  till  the  last  moment.  "  O  pa- 
pa !  "  she  cried,  "  I  need  all  my  res- 


olution, all  my  good  faith,  to  keep 
my  word  with  Arthur,  and  leave  you. 
Why,  wliy  did  I  promise  f  Why  am 
I  such  a  slave  to  my  word  1 " 

"  Because,"  said  the  old  General, 
with  a  voice  not  so  firm  as  usual, 
"  I  have  always  told  you  that  a  lady 
is  not  to  be  inferior  to  a  gentleman  in 
any  virtue  except  courage.  I  've 
heard  my  mother  say  so  often  ;  and 
I  've  taught  it  to  my  Helen.  And, 
my  girl,  where  would  be  the  merit  of 
keeping  our  word,  if  we  only  kept  it 
when  it  cost  us  nothing  ?  " 

He  promised  to  come  after,  in  three 
months  at  furthest,  and  the  brave  girl 
dried  her  tears  as  well  as  she  could, 
not  to  add  to  the  sadness  he  fought 
against  as  gallantly  as  he  had  often 
fought  the  enemies  of  his  country. 

The  Proserpine  was  to  sail  at  two 
o'clock  :  at  a  little  before  one,  a  gen- 
tleman boarded  her,  and  informed  the 
captain  that  he  was  a  missionary,  the 
Rev.  John  Hazel,  returning  home, 
after  a  fever ;  and  wished  to  take  a 
berth  in  the  Proserpine. 

The  mate  looked  him  full  in  the 
face ;  and  then  told  him  there  was 
very  little  accommodation  for  pas- 
sengers, and  it  had  all  been  secured 
by  White  and  Co.,  for  a  young  lady 
and  her  servants. 

Mr.  Hazel  replied  that  his  means 
were  small,  and  moderate  accommo- 
dation would  serve  him  ;  but  he  must 
go  to  England  without  delay. 

Captain  Hudson  put  in  his  gracious 
word ;  "  Then  jump  off  the  jetty  at 
high  tide  and  swim  there ;  no  room 
for  black  coats  in  my  ship." 

Mr.  Hazel  looked  from  one  to  the 
other  pitcously.  "  Show  me  some 
mercy,  gentlemen;  my  very  life  de- 
pends on  it." 

"  Very  sorry,  sir,"  said  the  mate ; 
"but  itis  impossible.  There's  the 
Shannon,  you  can  go  in  her." 

"  But  she  is  under  repairs ;  so  I  am 
told." 

"  Well,  there  are  a  hundred  and 
fifty  carpenters  on  to  her;  and  she 
will  come  out  of  port  in  our  wake." 

"Now,  sir,"  said  Hudson,  roughly, 


FOUL   PLAY. 


31 


"  bundle  down  the  ship's  side  again 
if  yon  please ;  this  is  a  busy  time. 
Hy  !  —  rig  the  whip ;  here  's  the  lady 
coming  off  to  us." 

The  missionaiy  heaved  a  deep 
sigh,  and  went  down  into  the  boat 
that  had  brought  him.  But  he  was 
no  sooner  seated  tiian  he  ordered  the 
boatmen,  somewhat  peremptorily,  to 
pull  ashore  as  fast  as  they  could  row. 
His  boat  met  the  RoUestons,  father 
and  daughter,  coming  out,  and  he 
turned  his  pale  face  and  eyed  them 
as  he  passed.  Helen  EoUeston  was 
struck  with  that  sorrowiul  counte- 
nance, and  whispered  her  father,  "  That 
poor  clergyman  has  just  left  the  ship." 
She  made  sure  he  had  been  taking 
leave  of  some  beloved  one,  bound  for 
England.  General  EoUeston  looked 
round,  but  the  boats  had  ]iassed  each 
other,  and  the  wan  face  v/as  no  longer 
visible. 

They  were  soon  on  board,  and  re- 
ceived with  great  obsequiousness. 
Helen  was  shown  lier  cabin,  and, 
observing  the  minute  and  zealous 
care  that  had  been  taken  of  her  com- 
fort, she  said,  "  Somebody  who  loves 
me  has  been  here,"  and  turned  her 
brimming  eyes  on  her  father.  He 
looked  quite  puzzled ;  but  said  noth- 
ing. 

Father  and  daughter  were  then  left 
alone  in  the  cabin,  till  the  ship  began 
to  heave  her  anchor  (she  lay  just  at 
the  mouth  of  the  harbor),  and  then 
the  boatswain  was  sent  to  give  Gen- 
eral EoUeston  warning.  Helen  came 
up  with  him,  pale  and  distressed. 
They  exchanged  a  last  embrace,  and 
General  EoUeston  went  down  the 
ship's  side.  Helen  hung  over  the  bul- 
warks and  waved  her  last  adieu, 
though  she  could  hardly  see  him  for 
her  tears. 

At  this  moment  a  four-oared  boat 
swept  alongside ;  and  Mr.  Hazel 
came  on  board  again.  He  presented 
Hudson  a  written  order  to  give  the 
Eev.  John  Hazel  a  passage  in  the 
small  berth  abreast  the  main  hatches. 
It  was  siirned  "For  White  and  Co., 
James   Seaton "  ;    and  v,-as  indorsed 


with  a  stamped  acknowledgment  of 
the  passage  money,  twenty-seven 
pouncls. 

Hudson,  and  Wylie  the  mate,  put 
their  heads  together  over  this.  The 
missionary  saw  them  consulting,  and 
told  them  he  had  mentioned  tlieir 
mysterious  conduct  to  Messrs.  White 
and  Co.,  and  that  Mr.  Seaton  had 
promised  to  stop  the  ship  if  their 
authority  was  resisted.  "  And  I 
have  paid  my  passage  money,  and 
will  not  be  turned  out  now  except 
by  force,"  said  the  reverend  gentle- 
man, quietly. 

Wylie's  head  was  turned  away  from 
Mr.  Hazel's,  and  on  its  profile  a  most 
gloomy,  vindictive  look,  so  much  so, 
that  Mr.  Hazel  was  startled  when  the 
man  turned  his  front  face  to  him  with 
a  jolly,  genial  air,  and  said,  "  Well, 
sir,  the  truth  is,  we  seamen  don't 
want  passengers  aboard  ships  of  this 
class ;  they  get  in  our  way  whenever 
it  blows  a  capful.  However,  since 
you  are  here,  make  yourself  as  com- 
fortable as  you  can." 

"  Tiiere,  that  is  enough  palaver," 
said  the  captain,  in  his  offensive  way. 
"  Hoist  the  parson's  traps  aboard  ; 
and  sheer  off  you.    Anchor's  apeak." 

He  then  gave  his  orders  in  sten- 
torian roars  ;  the  anchor  was  hove  up, 
catted,  and  fished;  one  sail  went  up 
after  another,  the  Proserpine's  head 
came  round,  and  away  she  bore  for 
England  with  a  fair  wind. 

General  EoUeston  went  slowly  and 
heavily  home,  and  often  turned  his 
head  and  looked  wistfully  at  the  ship 
putting  out  wing  upon  wing,  and 
carrying  off  his  child  like  a  tiny 
prey. 

To  change  the  comparison,  it  was 
only  a  tender  vine  detached  from  a 
great  sturdy  elm  :  yet  the  tree,  thus 
relieved  of  its  delicate  encum- 
brance, felt  bare ;  and  a  soft  thing 
was  gone,  that,  seeking  protection, 
had  bestowed  warmth  ;  had  nestled 
and  curled  between  the  world's  cold 
wind  and  that  stalwart  stem. 

As  soon  as  he  got  home  he  lighted 


32 


rOUL   PLAY. 


a  cigar,  and  set  to  work  to  console 
him.sclf  by  roHectinj;  that  it  was  l)iit 
a  temporary  panint;-,  since  he  had 
virtually  resigned  his  post,  and  was 
only  waitiny-  in  Sydney  till  ho  should 
have  handed  his  papers  in  order  over 
to  his  successor,  and  settled  one  or 
two  private  matters  that  could  not 
take  three  montiis. 

When  he  had  smoked  liis  cigar,  and 
reasoned  away  his  sense  of  desola- 
tion, Nature  put  out  her  hand,  and 
took  liim  by  tlie  breast,  and  drew  him 
gently  up  stairs  to  take  a  look  at  his 
beloved  dan.i;hter's  bedroom,  by  way 
of  seeing  the  last  of  her. 

Tlie  room  had  one  window  looking 
south,  and  another  west ;  the  latter 
commanded  a  view  of  tlie  sea.  Gener- 
al Rolleston  looked  down  at  the  floor, 
littered  with  odiis  and  ends,  —  the 
dead  leaves  of  dress  that  fall  about  a 
lady  in  the  great  process  of  packing, 
—  and  then  gazed  through  the  win- 
dow at  the  flying  Proserpine. 

He  sighed  and  lighted  another  ci- 
gar. Before  he  had  half  finished  it, 
he  stooped  down  and  took  up  a  little 
bow  of  ribbon  that  lay  on  the  ground, 
and  put  it  quietly  in  liis  bosom.  In 
this  act  he  was  surprised  by  Sarah 
Wilson,  who  had  come  up  to  sweep 
all  such  wail's  and  strays  into  her  own 
box. 

"  La,  sir,"  said  she,  rather  crossly, 
"why  didn't  you  tell  me,  and  I'd 
have  tidied  the  room  :  it  is  all  Inig- 
germugger,  with  ]\[iss  a  leaving." 

And  witii  this  she  went  to  the  wash- 
hand-stand  to  begin.  General  Kol- 
leston's  eye  followed  her  movements, 
and  lie  observed  the  water  in  one  of 
the  basins  was  ratiier  red.  "  What !  " 
said  he,  "  has  she  had  an  accident ; 
cut  her  flnger  '?  " 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Wilson. 

"Her  nose  been  bleeding,  then?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Not  from  her  finger,  —  nor  —  ? 
Let  me  look." 

He  examined  the  basin  narrowly, 
and  his  countenance  fell.  "  Good 
Heavens  !  "  said  he  :  "  I  wish  I  had 
seen  tliis  before  ;  she  should  not  have 


gone  to-day.  Was  it  the  agitation  of 
parting  1  " 

"  O  no,  sir,"  said  Wilson  ;  "  don't 
go  to  fancy  that.  Why,  it  is  not  the 
first  time  by  a  many." 

"  Not  the  first !  "  faltered  Rolleston. 
"  In  Heaven's  name,  whv  was  I  never 
told  of  this  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  sir,"  said  Wilson,  eager- 
ly, "  you  must  not  blame  me,  sir.  It 
was  as  much  as  my  place  was  worth 
to  tell  you.  Miss  is  a  young  lady  that 
will  be  obeyed  ;  and  she  give  me 
strict  orders  not  to  let  you  know  :  but 
she  is  gone  now :  and  I  always 
thought  it  was  a  i)ity  she  kept  it  so 
dark ;  but,  as  I  was  saying,  sir,  she 
would  be  obeyed." 

"  Kept  wiiat  so  dark  ?  " 

"  Why,  sir,  her  spitting  of  blood 
at  times  :  and  turning  so  tliii.i  by 
what  she  used  to  be,  poor  dear  young 
lady." 

General  Eolleston  groaned  aloud. 
"  And  this  she  hid  from  me ;  from  me ! " 
He  said  no  more,  but  kept  looking  be- 
wildered and  hel)dcss,  first  at  the 
basin,  discolored  by  his  daughter's 
blood,  and  then  at  the  Proserpine,  that 
was  carrying  her  away,  perhaps  for- 
ever ;  and,  at  the  double  sight,  liis 
iron  features  worked  with  cruel  dis- 
tress; anguish  so  mute  and  male,  that 
the  woman  Wilson,  tliough  not  good 
for  much,  sat  down  and  shed  genuine 
tears  of  pity. 

But  he  summoned  all  his  fortitude, 
told  Wilson  he  could  not  say  she  was 
to  blame,  she  had  but  obeyed  her 
mistress's  orders  ;  and  we  must  all 
obey  orders.  "  But  now,"  said  lie,  "  it 
is  me  you  ought  to  obey  :  tell  mo, 
does  any  doctor  attend  her  ?  " 

"  None  ever  comes  here,  sir.  But, 
one  day,  she  let  fall  that  she  went  to 
Dr.  Valentine,  him  that  has  the  name 
for'disorders  of  the  chest." 

In  a  very  few  minutes  General 
Rolleston  was  at  Dr.  ^^alentine's 
liouse,  and  asked  ium  bluntly  what 
was  the  matter  witli  his  daughter. 

"  Disease  of  the  lungs,"  said  the 
doctor,  sim]ily. 

The    unhappy  father  then  begged 


FOUL  PLAY. 


33 


flic  doctor  to  p:ive  liim  his  real  opin- 
ion  fis  to  the  de^irec  of  dantrer ;  and 
])r.  Valentine  told  him,  with  some 
feeling,  that  the  case  was  not  despe- 
rate, but  was  certainly  alarming. 

Remonstrated  with  for  letting  the 
girl  undertake  a  sea  voyage,  he  replied 
rather  evasively  at  first  ;  that  the  air 
of  Sydney  disagreed  with  his  ]iaiient, 
and  a  sea  voyage  was  more  likely  to 
do  her  good  than  harm,  provided  the 
weather  was  not  downright  tempest- 
uous. 

"  And  who  is  to  insure  me  against 
that  ?  "  asked  the  atHieted  father. 

"  VViiy,  it  is  a  good  time  of  year," 
said  Dr.  Valentine ;  "  and  delay 
might  have  been  fatal."  Then,  after 
a  slight  hesitation,  "  The  fact  is,  sir," 
said  he,  "  I  gathered  from  her  servant 
that  a  husband  awaits  Miss  liolleston 
in  England ;  and  I  must  tell  you, 
what  of  course  I  did  not  tell  her,  that 
tiie  sooner  she  enters  the  married  state 
the  better.  In  fact,  it  is  her  one 
chance,  in  myophiion." 

General  Kollesion  pressed  the  doc- 
tor's hand,  and  went  away  without 
another  word. 

Only  he  hurried  his  matters  of  bus- 
iness ;  and  took  his  passage  in  the 
Shannon. 

It  was  in  something  of  a  warrior's 
spirit  that  he  prepared  to  follow  his 
daughter  and  protect  her;  but  often 
he  sighed  at  the  invisible,  insidious 
nature  of  the  foe,  and  wished  it  could 
have  been  a  fair  fight  of  bullets  and 
bayonets,  and  his  own  the  life  at  stake. 

The  Shannon  was  soon  ready  for 
sea. 

But  the  gentleman  who  was  to  take 
General  lioUeston's  post  met  with 
something  better,  and  declined  it. 

General  liolleston,  though  chafing 
with  impatience,  had  to  give  up  going 
home  in  the  Shannon.  But  an  influ- 
ential friend,  Mr.  Adolpluis  Savage, 
was  informed  of  his  difficulty,  and 
obtained  a  year's  leave  of  absence  for 
him,  and  permission  to  put  young 
Savage  in  as  his  locum  tenens  ;  which, 
by  the  by,  is  how  politic  men  in  gen- 
eral serve  their  friends. 


The  Shannon  sailed,  but  not  until 
an  incident  had  occurred  that  must 
not  be  entirely  passed  over.  Okl  Mr. 
White  called  on  General  liolleston 
with  a  long  face,  and  told  him  James 
Beaton  had  disajipeared. 

"  Stolen  anything  ]  " 

"Not  a  shilling.  Indeed  the  last 
thing  the  poor  fellow  did  was  to  give 
us  a  proof  of  his  honesty.  It  seems 
a  passenger  paid  him  twenty-seven 
pounds  for  a  berth  in  the  Proserpine, 
just  before  she  sailed.  Well,  sir,  he 
might  have  put  this  in  his  pocket,  and 
nobody  been  the  wiser  :  but  no,  he 
entered  the  transaction,  and  the  num- 
bers of  the  notes,  and  left  the  notes 
themselves  in  an  envelope  addressed 
to  me.  What  I  am  most  afraid  of  is, 
that  some  harm  has  come  to  him,  poor 
lad." 

"  VVhat  dav  did  he  disappear  ?  " 

"  The  nth  of  November." 

"  The  day  my  daughter  sailed  for 
England,"  said  General  Rolleston, 
thoughtfully. 

"  Was  it,  sir  ?  Yes,  I  remember. 
She  w^ent  in  the  Proserpine." 

General  KoUeston  knitted  his  brows 
in  silence  for  some  time ;  then  he  said, 
"  I  '11  set  the  Detectives  on  his  track." 

"Not  to  punish  him.  General.  We 
do  not  w^ant  him  punished." 

"To  punish  him,  protect  him,  or 
avenge  him,  as  the  case  may  re- 
quire," was  the  reply,  uttered  very 
gravely. 

Mr.  White  took  his  leave.  General 
Rolleston  rang  the  hell,  and  directed 
his  servant  to  go  for  Hexham,  the 
Detective. 

He  then  rang  the  bell  again,  and 
sent  for  Sarah  Wilson.  He  put  some 
searching  questions  to  this  woman; 
and  his  interrogatory  had  hardly  con- 
cluded when  Hexham  was  announced. 
General  Rolleston  dismissed  the  girl, 
and,  looking  now  very  grave  indeed, 
asked  the  Detective  whether  he  re- 
membered James  Seaton. 

"  That  I  do,  sir." 

"  He  has  levanted." 
^•"  Taken  much,  sir  ?  " 

"  Not  a  shilling." 


34 


FOUL  PLAY. 


"  Gone  to  tlie  digp:in,c;s  ?  " 

"  That  you  must  iiiul  out." 

"  What  day  was  he  tirst  missed, 
sir  ?  " 

"  Eleventh  of  November.  The  very 
day  Miss  Kolleston  left." 

Hexham  took  out  a  little  greasy 
note-hook,  aiul  examined  it.  "  Elev- 
cntli  of  Novemher,"  said  he,  "  then 
I  almost  think  I  liavc  got  a  clew,  sir; 
but  I  shall  know  more  when  I  have 
liad  a  word  with  two  parties."  With 
this  he  retired. 

But  he  came  again  at  night,  and 
brought  General  Kolleston  some  posi- 
tive information  ;  with  this,  however, 
we  shall  not  trouble  the  reader  just 
here :  for  General  Kolleston  liimself 
related  it,  and  the  person  to  whom  he 
did  relate  it,  and  the  attendant  circum- 
stances, gave  it  a  peculiar  interest. 

Suffice  it  to  say  here,  that  General 
Kolleston  went  on  board  the  Shannon, 
charged  with  curious  information 
about  James  Seaton ;  and  sailed  for 
England  in  the  wake  of  the  Proserpine, 
and  about  two  thousand  miles  astern. 


CIIAPTEK  VIII. 

W.VRDLAAV  was  at  home  before  this 
with  his  hands  full  of  business  ;  and  it 
is  time  the  reader  should  be  let  into 
one  secret  at  least,  which  this  mer- 
chant had  contrived  to  conceal  from 
the  City  of  London,  and  from  his  own 
father,  and  from  every  human  creature, 
except  one  poor,  simple,  devoted  soul, 
called  Michael  Tenfold. 

There  are  men,  who  seem  stupid, 
yet  generally  go  right ;  there  are  also 
clever  men,  who  appear  to  have  the 
art  of  blundering  wisely  :  "  sapienter 
descendiint  in  infeniurn,"  as  the  ancients 
have  it ;  and  some  of  these  latter  will 
even  lie  on  their  backs,  after  a  fall, 
and  lift  up  their  voices,  and  prove  to 
you  that  in  the  nature  of  things  they 
ought  to  have  gone  up,  and  their  being 
down  is  monstrous;  illusory. 

Arthur  Wardlaw  was  not  quite  so 
clever  as   all  that ;  but  still  he  mis- 


conducted the  business  of  the  firm  with 
perfect  ability  from  the  first  month  he 
entered  on  it.  Like  those  ambitious 
railways,  which  ruin  a  goodly  trunk 
with  excess  of  branches,  not  to  say 
twigs,  he  set  to  work  extending,  and 
extending,  and  sent  the  sap  of  the 
healthy  old  concern  a  flying  to  the 
ends  of  the  earth. 

lie  was  not  only  too  ambitious,  and 
not  cool  enough  ;  he  was  also  unlucky, 
or  under  a  curse,  or  something ;  for 
things  well  conceived  broke  down, 
in  his  hands,  under  petty  accidents. 
And,  besides,  his  new  correspondents 
and  agents  hit  him  cruelly  iiard. 
Then  what  did  he  ?  Why,  shot  good 
money  after  bad,  and  lost  both.  He 
could  not  retrench,  for  his  game  was 
concealment ;  his  father  was  kept  in 
the  dark,  and  drew  his  four  thousand 
a  year,  as  usual,  and,  upon  any  hesi- 
tation in  that  respect,  would  have 
called  in  an  accountant  and  wound  up 
the  concern.  But  this  tax  upon  the 
receipts,  though  inconvenient,  was  a 
trifle  compared  with  the  series  of  heavy 
engagements  that  were  impending. 
The  future  was  so  black,  that  Ward- 
law  junior  was  sore  tempted  to  realize 
twenty  thousand  pounds,  which  a  man 
in  his  position  could  easily  do,  and  fly 
the  country.  But  this  would  have 
been  to  give  up  Helen  Kolleston  ; 
and  he  loved  her  too  well.  His  brain 
was  naturally  subtle  and  fertile  in  ex- 
pedients ;  so  he  brought  all  its  powers 
to  bear  on  a  double  problem,  —  how  to 
marry  Helen,  and  restore  the  concern 
he  had  mismanaged  to  its  former  state. 
For  this,  a  large  sum  of  money  was 
needed,  not  less  than  £  90,000. 

The  difficulties  were  great ;  but  he 
entered  on  this  project  with  two  ad- 
vantages. In  the  first  ])lace,  he  en- 
joyed excellent  credit;  in  the  second, 
he  "was  not  disposed  to  be  scrupulous. 
He  had  been  cheated  several  times  ; 
and  nothing  undermines  feeble  recti- 
tude more  than  that.  Such  a  man  as 
Wardlaw  is  apt  to  establish  a  sort  of 
account  current  with  humanity. 

"  Several  fellow-creatures  have 
cheated  me.      Well,  I  must  get  as 


FOUL  PLAY. 


35 


much  back,  by  hook  or  by  crook, 
from  several  fellow-creatures." 

After  much  hard  thoLi<rht,  he  con- 
ceived his  double  master-stroke  :  and 
it  was  to  execute  this  he  went  out  to 
Australia. 

We  have  seen  that  he  persuaded 
Helen  Rolleston  to  come  to  England 
and  bo  married;  but,  as  to  the  other 
part  of  his  project,  that  is  a  matter 
for  the  reader  to  watch,  as  it  develops 
itself. 

His  first  act  of  business,  on  reaching 
England,  was  to  insure  the  freights  of 
the  Proserpine  and  the  Shannon. 

He  sent  ^iichael  Penfold  to  Lloyd's, 
witli  the  requisite  vouchers,  including 
the  receipts  of  the  gold  merchants. 
Penfold  easily  insured  the  Shannon, 
whose  freight  was  valued  at  only  six 
thousand  pounds.  The  Proserpine, 
with  her  cargo,  and  a  hundred  and 
thirty  thousand  pounds  of  specie  to 
boot,  was  another  matter.  Some 
underwriters  had  an  objection  to 
specie,  being  subject  to  theft  as  well 
as  shipvi'reck ;  other  underwriters,  ap- 
plied toby  Penfold,  acquiesced ;  others 
called  on  Wardlaw  himself,  to  ask  a 
few  questions,  and  he  replied  to  them 
courteously,  but  with  a  certain  non- 
chalance, treating  it  as  an  afl^'air  which 
might  bo  big  to  them,  but  was  not  of 
particular  importance  to  a  merchant 
doing  business  on  his  scale. 

To  one  underw'riter,  Condell,  with 
whom  he  was  on  somewhat  intimate 
terms,  he  said,  "  I  wish  I  could  insure 
the  Sharmon  at  her  value ;  but  that 
is  impossible :  the  City  of  London 
could  not  do  it.  The  Proserpine 
brings  me  some  cases  of  specie,  but 
my  true  treasure  is  on  board  the 
Shannon.     She  carries  my  bride,  sir." 

"  O  indeed  !     Miss  Rolleston  1 " 

"  Ah,  I  remember ;  you  have  seen 
Iicr.  Then  you  will  not  be  surprised 
at  a  proposal  I  shall  make  you. 
Underwrite  the  Shannon  a  million 
pounds,  to  be  paid  by  you  if  harm  be- 
falls my  Helen.  You  need  not  look 
so  astonished;  I  was  only  joking; 
you  gentlemen  deal  with  none  but 
substantial  values  ;  and,  as  for  me,  a 


million  would  no  more  compensate 
me  for  losing  her,  than  for  losing  my 
own  life." 

The  tears  were  in  his  pale  eyes  as 
he  said  these  words  ;  and  Mr.  Condell 
eyed  him  with  sympathy.  But  he 
soon  recovered  himself,  and  was  the 
man  of  business  again.  "  0,  the  spe- 
cie on  board  the  Proserpine?  Well, 
I  was  in  Australia,  you  know,  and 
bought  that  specie  myself  of  the  mer- 
chants whose  names  are  attached  to 
the  receipts.  I  deposited  the  cases 
with  White  and  Co.,  at  Sydney. 
Penfold  will  show  you  the  receipt.  I 
instructed  Joseph  Wylie,  mate  of  the 
Proserpine,  and  a  trustworthy  person, 
to  see  them  stowed  away  in  the  Pro- 
serpine, by  White  and  Co.  Hudson  is 
a  good  seaman  ;  and  the  Proserpine 
a  new  ship,  built  by  Mare.  We 
have  nothing  to  fear  but  the  ordinaiy 
perils  of  the  sea." 

"  So  one  would  think,"  said  Mr. 
Condell,  and  took  his  leave ;  but,  at 
the  door,  he  hesitated,  and  then,  look- 
ing down  a  little  sheepishly,  said, 
"  Mr.  Wardlaw,  may  I  offer  you  a 
piece  of  advice  ?  " 

"  Certainly." 

"  Then,  double  the  insurance  on  the 
Shannon,  if  j'ou  can." 

With  these  words  he  slipped  out, 
evidently  to  avoid  questions  he  did  not 
intend  to  answer. 

Wardlaw  stared  after  him,  stupidly 
at  first,  and  then  stood  up  and  put  his 
hand  to  his  head  in  a  sort  of  amaze- 
ment. Then  he  sat  down  again,  ashy 
pule,  and  with  the  dew  on  his  fore- 
head, and  muttered  faintly,  "Double 
—  the  insurance  —  of  the  —  Shan- 
non !  " 

Men  who  walk  in  crooked  paths 
are  very  subject  to  such  surprises ; 
doomed,  like  Ahab,  to  be  pierced, 
through  the  joints  of  their  armor,  by 
random  shafts  ;  by  words  uttered  in 
one  sense,  but  conscience  interprets 
them  in  another. 

It  took  a  good  many  underwriters 
to  insure  the  Proserpine's  freight ; 
but  the  business  was  done  at  last. 


36 


FOUL   PLAY. 


Then  Wardlaw,  -who  had  feifrncd 
insouciance  so  ndiiiirably  in  that  part 
of  liis  interview  witli  Condell,  went, 
without  losing  an  hour,  and  raised  a 
large  sum  of  money  on  tlie  insured 
freigiit,  to  meet  the  bills  that  were 
coining  due  for  the  gold  (for  he  had 
paid  for  most  of  it  in  paper  at  short 
dates),  and  also  other  bills  that  were 
appioaehing  maturity.  This  done, 
he  breathed  again,  safe  for  a  month  or 
two  from  everything  short  of  a  gen- 
eral panic,  and  fidl  of  hope  from 
his  coming  master-stroke.  But  two 
months  soon  pass  when  a  man  has 
a  flock  of  kites  in  the  air.  Pass  1 
They  fly.  So  now  he  looked  out 
anxiously  for  his  Australian  ships  ; 
and  went  to  Lloyd's  every  day  to 
hear  if  either  had  been  seen,  or  heard 
of  by  steamers,  or  by  faster  sailing 
vessels  than  themselves. 

And,  though  Condell  had  under- 
written the  Proserpine  to  the  tunc  of 
eight  thousand  pounds,  yet  still  his 
mysterious  words  rang  strangely  in 
the  merchant's  ears,  and  made  him 
so  uneasy,  that  he  employed  a  discreet 
person  to  sound  Condell  as  to  what 
he  meant  by  "  double  the  insurance 
of  the  Shannon." 

It  turned  out  to  be  the  simplest  af- 
fair in  the  world  ;  Condell  had  secret 
inf(nmaiion  that  the  Shannon  was  in 
bad  repairs,  so  he  had  advised  his 
friend  to  insure  her  heavily.  For 
the  same  reason,  he  declined  to  under- 
write her  freight  himself. 

With  respect  to  tliose  ships,  our 
readers  already  know  two  things,  of 
which  Wardlaw  himself,  nota  bene, 
had  no  idea ;  namely  that  the  Shan- 
non had  sailed  last,  instead  of  first, 
and  that  Miss  Rolleston  was  not  on 
board  of  her,  but  in  the  Proserpine, 
two  thousand   miles  ahead. 

To  that,  yonr  superior  knowledge, 
we,  posters  of  the  sea  and  land,  are 
about  to  make  a  large  addition,  and 
relate  things  strange,  but  true.  While 
that  anxious  and  plotting  merchant 
strains  his  eyes  seaward,  trying  liard 
to  read  the  future,  we  carry  you,  in  a 
moment  of  time,  across  the  Pacific, 


and  board  the  lending  vessel,  the  good 
ship  Proserpine,  homeward  hound. 

'J'he  ship  left  Sydney  with  a  fair 
wind,  but  soon  encountered  adverse 
weather,  and  made  slow  piogress,  be- 
ing clo.sc-haulcd,  which  was  licr  worst 
point  of  sailing.  She  jiitchcd  a  good 
deal,  and  that  had  a  very  ill  eflfect  on 
Miss  Rolleston.  She  was  not  sea- 
sick, but  thoroughly  out  of  sorts  : 
and,  in  one  week,  became  perceptibly 
paler  and  thinner  than  when  she 
started. 

The  young  clergyman,  Mr.  Hazel, 
watched  her  with  respectful  anxiety, 
and  this  did  not  escape  her  feminine 
observation.  She  noted  quietly  that 
those  dark  eyes  of  liis  followed  her 
with  a  mournful  tenderness,  but  with- 
drew their  gaze  when  she  looked  at 
him.  Cleaily,  he  was  interested  in 
her,  but  had  no  desire  to  intrude  upon 
her  attention.  He  would  bring  up 
the  squabs  for  her,  and  some  of  his 
own  wraps,  when  she  stayed  on  deck, 
and  was  prompt  with  his  arm  when 
the  vessel  lurched  ;  and  showed  her 
those  other  little  attentions  which 
are  called  for  on  board  ship,  but  with- 
out a  word.  Yet,  when  she  thanked 
him  in  the  simplest  and  shortest  way, 
his  great  eyes  flashed  with  plcasuie, 
and  the  color  mounted  to  his  very 
temples. 

P>ngaged  young  ladies  are,  for  vari- 
ous reasons,  more  sociable  with  the 
other  sex  than  those  who  are  still  on 
the  universal  mock-defensive  :  a  ship, 
like  a  distant  country,  thaws  even 
English  reserve,  and  women  in  gen- 
eral are  disposed  to  admit  ecclesiastics 
to  certain  ])rivilegcs.  No  wonder  then 
that  Miss  Rolleston,  after  a  few  days, 
met  Mr.  Hazel  half-way  ;  nnd  they 
made  acquaintance  on  l)oard  the  Pro- 
serpine, in  monosyllables  at  first; 
but,  the  ice  once  fairly  broken,  the  in- 
tercourse of  mind  became  rather  rap- 
id. 

At  first  it  was  a  mere  intellectual 
exchange^  but  one  very  agreeable  to 
Miss  Rolleston  ;  fin*  a  fine  memory, 
and  omnivorous  reading  from  his  very 
boyhood,   with   the   habit   of    taking 


FOUL   PLAY. 


37 


notes,  and  reviewing  them,  had  made 
Mr.  lluzul  a  walkinjj;  dictionary,  and  a 
walking  essayist  if  required. 

But 'wlien  it  came  to  somctliing 
which  most  of  all  ihc  young  lady  had 
Iioped  from  this  temporary  acquaint- 
ance, viz.  religious  instruction,  she 
found  him  indeed  as  learned  on  that 
as  on  other  topics,  but  cold,  and  de- 
void of  unction  :  so  mnrh  so,  that  one 
dav  she  siud  to  him,  "I  can  hardly 
believe  you  have  ever  been  a  mission- 
ary."  But  at  that  he  seemed  so  dis- 
tressed, tliat  she  was  sorry  for  him, 
and  said,  sweetly,  "  E-xcuse  me,  Mr. 
Haz -1,  my  remark  was  in  rather  bad 
taste,  I  fear." 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  he.  "  Of  course 
I  am  unfit  for  missionary  work,  or  I 
should  not  be  here." 

Miss  RoUeston  took  a  good  look  at 
him,  but  said  nothing,  llowcver,  his 
reply  and  her  p-rusal  of  his  counte- 
nance satisticd  lier  thit  he  was  a  man 
with  very  little  petty  vanity  and  petty 
irritability. 

One  day  they  were  discoursing  of 
gratitude;  and  Mr.  Hazel  said  he  had 
a  poor  opinion  of  those  persons  who 
speak  of  "  the  burd.^'n  of  gratitude," 
and  make  a  fu-is  about  being  "  laid 
under  an  obligation." 

"As  ibr  me,"  said  he,  "  I  have  owed 
such  a  debt,  and  found  tlie  sense  of  it 
very  sweet." 

"  J3ut    perhaps    you    were   always 
hoping  to  make  a  return,"  said  Hjlen. 
"  Tiiat    I    was  :     hoping    against 
hope." 

"  Do  you  think  people  are  grateful, 
in  general  ?  " 

"  No,  Miss  Rolleston,  I  do  not." 
"  Well,  1  think  they  are.  To  me 
at  least.  Why,  I  have  experienced 
gratitude  even  in  a  convict.  It  was  a 
poor  man,  who  had  been  transported, 
for  something  or  other,  and  he  begged 
pap.i  to  take  him  for  his  gardener. 
Papa  did,  and  he  was  so  grateful  that, 
do  you  know,  he  suspected  our  house 
was  to  be  robbed,  and  he  actually 
watched  in  the  garden  night  after 
night :  and,  what  do  you  think  ?  the 
house  was  attacked  by  a  whole  gang  ; 


but  poor  Mr.  Seaton  confronted  them 
and  shot  one,  and  was  wounded  crn- 
elly  ;  but  he  beat  them  otf  lor  us  ;  and 
was  not  that  gratitude  ?  " 

While  she  was  speaking  so  ear- 
nestly, Mr.  Hazel's  blood  seemed  to 
run  "through  his  veins  like  heavenly 
tire,  but  he  said  nothing,  and  the  lady 
resumed  with  gentle  fervor,  "  Well, 
we  got  him  a  clerk's  place  in  a  ship- 
ping-office, and  heard  no  more  of 
him  ;  but  he  did  not  forget  us  ;  my 
cabin  here  was  fitted  up  with  ev- 
ery comfort,  and  every  delicacy.  I 
thanked  papa  for  it ;  l)ut  he  looked  so 
blank  I  saw  directly  he  knew  noth- 
ing about  it;  and,  now  I  think  of  it, 
it  was  Mr.  Seaton.  I  am  positive  it 
was.  Poor  fellow  !  And  I  should  not 
even  know  him  if  I  saw  him." 

Mr.  Hazel  observed,  in  a  low  voice, 
that  iNIr.  Seaton's  conduct  did  not 
seem  wonderful  to  him.  "  Still,"  said 
ho,  "  one  is  glad  to  find  there  is  some 
good  left  even  in  a  criminal." 

"  A  criminal !  "  cried  Helen  Kollcs- 
ton,  firing  up.  "Pray,  who  says  ho 
was  a  criminal  ?  Mr.  Hazel,  once  for 
all,  no  friend  of  mine  ever  deserves 
such  a  name  as  that.  A  friend  of 
mine  may  commit  some  great  error  or 
imprudence ;  but  that  is  all.  The 
poor  grateful  soul  was  never  guilty 
of  any  downright  wickedness  :  t/iat 
st<wdii  to  reason." 

Mr.  Hazel  did  not  encounter  this 
femirnne  logic  with  his  usual  al)ility; 
he  muttered  something  or  other,  with 
a  trembling  lip,  and  left  her  so  abrupt- 
ly, that  she  asked  herself  whether  she 
had  inadvertently  said  anything  that 
could  have  offended  him  ;  and  await- 
ed an  explanation.  But  none  came. 
The  topic  was  never  revived  by  Mr. 
Hazel ;  and  his  manner,  at  their  next 
meeting,  showed  he  liked  her  none 
the  worse  that  she  stood  up  for  her 
friends. 

The  M-ind  steady  from  the  west  for 
two  whole  days,  and  the  Proserpine 
showed  her  best  sailing  qualities,  and 
ran  four  hundred  and  fifty  miles  in 
that  time. 


38 


FOUL  PLAY. 


Then  came  a  dead  calm,  and  the 
sails  flapped  lazily,  and  the  masts  de- 
scribed ail  arc ;  and  the  sun  broiled ; 
and  the  sailors  whistled ;  and  tiie 
captain  drank;  and  the  mute  encour- 
aged him. 

During  this  calm  Miss  Rolleston 
fell  downright  ill,  and  quitted  tiie 
deck.  Then  Mr.  Hazel  was  very  sad  : 
borrowed  all  the  books  in  the  ship, 
and  read  them,  and  took  notes  ;  and, 
when  lie  had  done  this,  he  was  at  lei- 
sure to  read  men,  and  so  began  to 
study  Hiram  Hudson,  Joseph  Wylie, 
and  others,  and  take  a  few  notes  about 
them. 

From  these  we  select  some  tiiat  arc 
better  worth  the  reader's  attention 
than  anything  we  could  relate  in  our 
own  persons  at  this  stagnant  part  of 
the  story. 


PASSAGES    FROM    MR. 
ZEL'S  DIARY. 


HA- 


"  Characters     ox     board     the 
Proserpine. 

"  There  are  two  sailors,  messmates, 
who  have  formed  an  anticjue  friend- 
ship ;  their  names  are  John  Welch 
and  Samuel  Cooper.  Welch  is  a  very 
able  seaman  and  a  chatterbox.  Cooper 
is  a  good  sailor,  but  very  silent ;  only 
what  he  does  say  is  much  to  the  pur- 
pose. 

"  The  gabble  of  Welch  is  agreeable 
to  the  silent  Cooper ;  and  Welch  ad- 
mires Cooper's  taciturn  it}'. 

"  I  asked  Welch  what  made  him 
like  Cooper  so  much.  And  he  said, 
'  Why,  you  see,  sir,  he  is  my  mess- 
mate, for  one  thintr,  and  a  seaman 
that  knows  his  work  ;  and  then  he  has 
been  well  eddycated,  and  he  knows 
when  to  hold  his  tongue,  does  Sam.' 

"  I  asked  Cooper  why  he  was  so 
fond  of  Welch.  He  only  grunted  in 
an  uneasy  way  at  first ;  hut,  when  I 
pressed  for  a  reply,  he  let  out  two 
words, — '  Caj)ital  eonqjany  ' ;  and  got 
away  from  me. 

"  Their  friendshi]),  though  often 
roughly  expressed,  is  really  a  tender 
and  touching  sentiment     I  think  ei- 


ther of  these  sailors  would  bare  his 
back  and  take  a  dozen  lashes  in  place 
of  Ids  messmate.  I  too  once  thought 
I  had  made  such  a  friend.     Eheu  ! 

"  Both  Cooper  and  Welch  seem,  by 
their  talk,  to  consider  the  ship  a  liv- 
ing creature.  Cooper  chews.  Welch 
only  smokes,  and  often  lets  his  pipe 
out :  he  is  so  voluble. 

"  CajJtain  Hudson  is  quite  a  char- 
acter :  or,  I  might  say  two  charac- 
ters ;  for  he  is  one  man  when  he  is 
sober,  and  another  -when  he  is  the 
worse  for  liquor  :  and  that  I  am  sorry 
to  see  is  very  often.  Captain  Hudson, 
sober,  is  a  rough,  bearish  seaman, 
M'ith  a  quick,  experienced  eye,  that 
takes  in  every  ro]3e  in  the  ship,  as  he 
walks  up  and  down  his  quarter-deck. 
He  either  evades  or  bluntly  declines 
conversation,  and  gives  his  whole 
mind  to  sailing  his  ship. 

'■  Captain  Hudson,  drunk,  is  a  gar- 
i-nlous  man,  who  seems  to  have  drift- 
ed back  into  the  past.  He  comes  up 
to  you  and  talks  of  his  own  accord, 
and  always  about  himself,  and  what 
he  did  fifteen  or  twenty  years  since. 
He  forgets  whatever  has  occurred  half 
an  hour  ago  ;  and  his  eye,  which  was 
an  eagle's,  is  now  a  mole's.  He  no 
longer  sees  what  his  sailors  are  doing 
alow  or  aloft;  to  be  sure  he  no  longer 
cares  ;  his  present  ship  may  take  care 
of  herself  while  he  is  talking  of  his 
past  ones.  But  the  surest  indicia  of 
inebriety  in  Hudson  are  these  two. 
First,  his  nose  is  red.  Secondly,  he 
discourses  upon  a  seaman's  c/((/_y  to  his 
employers.  Ebrius  rings  the  changes 
on  his 'duty  to  his  employers '  till 
drowsiness  attacks  his  hearers.  Cicero 
de  officiis  was  all  very  well  at  a  certain 
period  of  one's  life  :  but  bihulus  iiaula 
de  officiis  is  ratlicr  too  much. 

''  N.  B.  I']xce|)t  when  his  nose  is 
red  not  a  word  about  his  '  duty  to  his 
employers.'  That  pin-ase,  like  a  fine 
lady,  never  ventures  into  the  morning 
air.  It  is  purely  post-])randial,  and 
sacred  to  occasions  when  he  is  utterly 
neglecting  his  duty  to  his  employers, 
and  to  everybody  else. 

"All  this  is  ridiculous  enough,  but 


FOUL  PLAY. 


39 


somewhat  alarminj^.  To  think  that 
her  precious  life  should  be  intrusted 
to  the  care  and  skill  of  so  unreliable  a 
captain ! 

"Joseph  Wylie,  the  mate,  is  less 
eccentric,  but  even  more  remarkaljle. 
He  is  one  of  those  powerfully  built 
fellows  whom  Nature,  one  would 
think,  constructed  to  gain  all  their  ends 
by  force  and  directness.  But  no  such 
thing ;  he  goes  about  as  softly  as  a 
cat  ;  is  always  popping  out  of  holes 
and  corners  ;  and  I  can  see  he  watches 
me,  and  tries  to  hear  what  I  say  to 
her.  He  is  civil  to  me  when  I  speak 
to  him ;  yet  I  notice  he  avoids  me 
quietly.  Altogether,  there  is  some- 
thing about*  him  that  puzzles  me. 
Why  was  he  so  reluctant  to  let  me  on 
board  as  a  passenger  ?  Why  did  he 
tell  a  downright  falsehood  ?  For  he 
said  there  was  no  room  for  me  ;  yet, 
even  now,  there  are  two  cabins  va- 
cant, and  he  has  taken  possession  of 
them. 

"  The  mate  of  this  ship  has  several 
barrels  of  spirits  in  his  cabin,  or 
rather,  cabins,  and  it  is  he  who  makes 
the  captain  drunk.  I  learned  this 
from  one  of  the  boys.  This  looks 
ugly.  I  fear  Wylie  is  a  bad,  design- 
ing man,  who  wishes  to  ruin  the  cap- 
tain, and  so  get  his  place.  But,  mean- 
time, the  ship  might  be  endangered 
by  this  drunkard's  misconduct.  I 
shall  watch  Wylie  closely,  and  per- 
haps put  the  captain  on  his  guard 
against  this  Mse  friend. 

"  Last  night,  a  breeze  got  up  about 
sunset,  and  H.  R.  came  on  deck  for 
half  an  hour.  I  welcomed  her  as 
calmly  as  I  could  ;  but  I  felt  my  voice 
tremble  and  my  heart  throb.  She 
told  me  the  voyage  tired  her  much; 
but  it  was  the  last  she  should  have  to 
make.  How  strange,  how  hellish 
(God  forgive  me  for  saying  so!)  it 
seems  that  site  should  love  liim.  But, 
does  she  love  him  ?  Can  she  love 
him  1  Could  she  love  him  if  she 
knew  all  ?  Know  him  she  shall  before 
she  marries  him.  For  the  present,  be 
still,  my  heart. 


"  She  soon  went  below  and  left  me 
desolate.  I  wandered  all  about  the 
ship,  and,  at  last,  I  came  ujjon  the 
inseparables,  Welch  and  Cooper. 
They  were  squatted  on  the  deck,  and 
Welch's  tongue  was  going  as  usual. 
He  was  talking  about  this  Wylie,  and 
saying  that,  in  all  his  ships,  he  had 
neVer  known  such  a  mate  as  this  ; 
why,  the  captain  was  under  his  thumb. 
He  then  gave  a  string  of  captains, 
eadi  of  whom  would  have  given  his 
mate  a  round  dozen  at  the  gangway, 
if  he  had  taken  so  much  on  him  as 
this  one  does. 

"  '  Grog  ! '  suggested  Cooper,  in  ex- 
teimation. 

"  Welch  admitted  Wylie  was  lib- 
eral with  that,  and  friendly  enough 
with  the  men  ;  but,  still,  he  preferred 
to  see  a  ship  commanded  by  the 
captain,  and  not  by  a  lubber  like 
Wylie. 

"  I  expressed  some  surprise  at  this 
term,  and  said  I  had  envied  Wylie's 
nerves  in  a  gale  of  wind  we  encoun- 
tered early  in  the  voyage. 

"  The  talking  sailor  explained,  'In 
course,  he  has  been  to  sea  afore  this, 
and  weathered  many  a  gale.  But  so 
has  the  cook.  That  don't  make  a 
man  a  sailor.  You  ask  him  how  to 
send  down  a  to'-gallant  yard  or  gam- 
mon a  bowsprit,  or  even  mark  a  lead 
line,  and  he  '11  stare  at  ye,  like  Old 
Nick,  when  the  angel  caught  him 
with  the  red-hot  tongs,  and  ques- 
tioned him  out  of  the  Church  Cate- 
chism. Ask  Sam  there,  if  ye  don't 
believe  me.  Sam,  what  do  you  think 
of  this  Wylie  for  a  seaman  1 ' 

"  Cooper  could  not  ai^brd  anything 
so  precious,  in  bis  estimate  of  things, 
as  a  word ;  but  he  lifted  a  great 
brawny  hand,  and  gave  a  snap  witli 
his  finger  and  thumb,  that  disposed 
of  the  mate's  pretensions  to  seaman- 
ship more  expressively  than  words 
could  have  done  it. 

"  The  breeze  has  freshened,  and 
the  ship  glides  rapidly  through  the 
water,  bearing  us  all  homeward. 
Helen  Rollcston  has  resumed  her 
place  upon  the  deck ;  and  all  seems 


40 


FOUL  PLAY. 


bright  ajrain.     I  ask  myself  how  we 
existed  without  the  siglit  of  her. 

"  This  nioriiiiig  tlie  wind  siiiftcd  to 
the  soiitiiwcst ;  the  ciipiaiii  siir])riscd 
us  by  talcing  in  sail.  J>ut  iiis  soi)er 
eye  had  seen  sornetliiiig  more  than 
ours  ;  for  at  noon  it  blew  a  gale,  and 
by  sunset  it  was  deemed  prudent  to 
bring  the  ship's  head  to  the  wind, 
and  we  are  now  lying  to.  The  ship 
lurches,  and  the  wind  howls  through 
the  baie  rigging  ;  hut  she  rides  buoy- 
antly, and  no  danger  is  apprehended. 

"  l.iast  night,  as  1  lay  in  my  cabin, 
unable  to  sleep,  I  lieaid  some  heavy 
blows  strike  the  ship's  side  repeatedly, 
causing  quite  a  vibration.  I  felt 
alarmed,  and  went  out  to  tell  the  cap- 
tain. But  I  was  obliged  to  go  on  my 
hands  and  knees,  such  was  the  force 
of  the  wind.  Passing  the  mate's  cab- 
in, 1  heard  sounds  that  made  me  listen 
acutely ;  and  I  then  found  the  blows 
were  being  struck  inside  the  ship.  I 
got  to  the  captain  and  told  him.  '  O,' 
said  he,  '  ten  to  one  it  's  the  mate 
nailing  down  his  chests,  or  the  like.' 
But  1  assured  him  the  blows  struck 
the  side  of  the  ship,  and,  at  my  ear- 
nest request,  he  came  out  and  listened. 
He  swore  a  great  oath,  and  said  the 
lubber  would  be  through  the  ship's 
side.  He  then  tried  the  cabin  door, 
but  it  was  locked. 

"  The  sounds  ceased  directly. 

"  "We  called  to  the  mate,  but  re- 
ceived no  reply  for  a  long  time.  At 
last  Wylie  came  out  of  the  gun-room, 
looking  rather  pale,  and  asked  what 
was  the  mattei". 

"  I  told  him  he  ought  to  know  best, 
for  the  blows  were  lieard  where  he  had 
just  conie  from. 

"  '  Blows  !  '  said  he  ;  '  I  l)elieve  you. 
Why,  a  tierce  of  butter  had  got  adrift, 
and  was  bumping  up  and  down  the 
hold  like  thunder.'  lie  then  asked  its 
Avhether  that  was  wliat  we  had  dis- 
turbed him  for,  entered  his  cabin,  and 
almost  slammed  the  door  in  our  faces. 

"I  remarked  to  the  captain  on  his 
disrespectful  conduct.  The  captain 
was  civil,  and  said  I  was   right ;  he 


was  a  cross-grained,  unmanageable 
brute,  and  he  wished  he  was  out  of  the 
ship.  '  But  you  see,  sir,  he  has  got  the 
ear  of  the  merchant  ashore  ;  and  so  I 
am  obliged  to  hold  a  candle  to  the 
Devil,  as  the  saying  is.'  He  then  fired 
a  volley  of  oaths  and  abuse  at  the  of- 
i'ender ;  and,  not  to  encourage  ibul 
language,  I  retired  to  my  cal)in. 

"  The  wind  declined  towards  dnj'- 
break,  and  the  ship  recommenced  lier 
voyage  at  8  A.  M.  ;  but  under  treble- 
reefed  topsails  and  reefed  courses. 

"  I  caught  the  captain  and  mate 
talking  together  in  the  friendliest  way 
possible.  That  Hudson  is  a  humbug  ; 
there  is  some  mystery  between  him 
and  the  mate. 

"  To-day  H.  R.  was  on  deck,  for 
several  hours,  conversing  svi'cetly,  and 
looking  like  the  angel  she  is.  But 
iiajipiness  soon  flies  from  me ;  a 
steamer  came  in  sight,  bound  for  Syd- 
ney. She  signalled  us  to  heave  to, 
and  send  a  boat.  This  was  done,  and 
the  boat  brought  back  a  letter  for  her. 
It  seems  they  took  us  for  the  Shan- 
non, in  which  ship  she  was  expected. 

"  "Jhe  letter  was  from  him.  How 
her  cheek  flushed  and  her  eye  bcanied 
as  she  took  it.  And  O  the  sadness, 
the  agony,  that  stood  beside  her  un- 
heeded. 

"  I  left  tlic  deck ;  I  could  not  have 
contained  myself.  What  a  thing  is 
wealth  !  By  wealth,  tliat  wretch  can 
stretch  out  his  hand  acro.^s  the  ocean, 
and  put  a  letter  into  her  hand  uiuler 
luy  very  eye.  Away  goes  all  that  I 
have  gained  by  being  near  her  while 
he  is  iiir  away.  He  is  not  in  England 
now,  —  he  is  here.  His  odious  pres- 
ence has  driven  me  from  her.  0  that 
I  could  be  a  child  again,  or  in  my 
grave,  to  get  away  from  this  Hell  of 
Love  and  Hate." 

At  this  point,  we  beg  leave  to  take 
tlie  narrative  into  our  own  hands 
again. 

Mr.  Hazel  actually  left  the  deck  to 
avoid  the  sight  of  Helen  Holleston's 
flushed  cheek  and  beaming  eyes,  read- 
in<r  Arthur  Wardlaw's  letter. 


FOUL  PLAY. 


41 


And  here  we  may  as  well  observe 
that  he  retired  not  merely  because  the 
torture  was  hard  to  bear.  He  had 
some  disclosures  to  make,  on  reacliinj;- 
England;  but  his  good  sense  told  him 
this  was  not  the  time  or  the  place  to 
make  them,  nor  Helen  Kolleston  the 
jjcrson  to  whom,  in  the  first  instance, 
thevouLiht  to  be  made. 

While  he  tries  to  relieve  his  swell- 
ing heart  by  putting  its  throbs  on 
jiaper  (and,  in  truth,  this  is  some 
faint  relief,  for  want  of  which  many 
a  less  unhappy  man  than  Hazel  has 
gone  mad),  let  lis  stay  by  the  lady's 
side,  and  read  her  letter  with  her. 

RnssELL  Square,  Dec.  15, 1865. 

"  My  dear  Love  :  —  Hearing  that 
the  Antelope  steam-packet  was  going 
to  Sydney,  i)y  way  of  Cape  Horn,  I 
have  begged  the  captain,  who  is  un- 
der some  obligations  to  me,  to  keep  a 
good  lookout  for  the  Shannon,  home- 
ward bound,  and  board  her  with  these 
lines,  weather  ]iermitting. 

"  Of  course  the  chances  are  j'ou 
will  not  receive  them  at  sea  ;  but  still 
you  possibly  may  ;  and  my  heart  is  so 
full  of  you,  I  seize  any  excuse  for 
overflowing;  and  then  I  picture  to 
myself  that  bright  face  reading  an  un- 
expected letter  in  mid-ocean,  and  so  I 
taste  beforehand  the  greatest  pleasure 
my  mind  can  conceive,  —  the  delight 
of  giving  you  pleasure,  mv  own  sweet 
Helen.  " 

"  News,  I  have  little.  You  know 
how  deeply  and  devotedly  you  are 
beloved,  —  know  it  so  well  that  I  feel 
words  are  almost  wasted  in  repeating 
it.  Indeed,  the  time,  I  hope,  is  at 
hand  when  the  word  '  love '  will  hardly 
lie  mentioned  between  us.  For  my 
part,  I  think  it  will  be  too  visible  in 
every  act,  and  look,  and  word  of  mine, 
to  need  repetition.  We  do  not  speak 
much  about  the  air  we  live  in.  We 
breathe  it,  and  speak  with  it,  not  of  it. 

"  I  su])po5e  all  lovers  are  jealous. 
I  think  1  should  go  mad  if  30U  were 
to  give  me  a  rival ;  but  then  I  do  not 
understand  that  ill-natured  jealousy 
which  would  rob  the  beloved  object 


of  all  aflfections  but  the  one.  I  know 
my  Helen  loves  her  father,  —  loves 
him,  perhaps,  as  well,  or  better,  than 
she  does  me.  Well,  in  spite  of  that, 
I  love  him  too.  Uo  you  know,  I 
never  see  that  erect  form,  that  model 
of  courage  and  probity,  come  into  a 
room,  but  I  say  to  myself,  '  Here 
comes  my  benefactor  ;  but  for  this 
man  there  would  be  no  Helen  in  the 
world.'  Well,  dearest,  an  unexpected 
circumstance  has  given  me  a  little 
military  influence  (these  things  do 
happen  in  the  City)  ;  and  I  really  be- 
lieve that,  what  with  his  acknowl- 
edged merits  (I  am  secretly  informed 
a  very  high  personage  said,  the  other 
day,  he  had  not  received  justice),  and 
the  influence  I  si)cak  of,  a  post  will 
shortly  be  offered  to  your  father  that 
will  enable  him  to  live,  henceforth,  in 
England,  with  comfort,  I  might  say, 
affluence.  Perhaps  he  mi;.du  live 
with  us.  That  depends  upon  him- 
self. 

"  Looking  forward  to  this,  and  my 
own  still  greater  happiness,  diverts 
my  mind  awhile  from  the  one  ever- 
pressing  anxiety.  But,  alas  !  it  will 
return.  By  this  time  my  Helen  is 
on  the  seas,  —  the  terrible,  the  treach- 
erous, the  cruel  seas,  that  spare 
neither  beauty  nor  virtue,  nor  the 
longing  liearts  at  home.  I  have  con- 
ducted this  office  for  some  years,  and 
thought  I  knew  care  and  anxiety. 
But  1  find  I  knew  neither  till  now. 

"  I  have  two  ships  at  sei,  the  Shan- 
non and  the  Proserpine.  The  Proser- 
pine carries  eighteen  chests  of  specie, 
worth  a  hundred  and  thirty  thousand 
pounds.  I  don't  care  one  straw  wheth- 
er she  sinks  or  swims.  But  the  Shan- 
non carries  my  darling ;  and  every  gust 
at  nijiht  awakens  mc,  and  every  day  I 
go  into  the  great  room  at  Lloyd's 
and  watch  the  anemometer.  O  God  ! 
be  merciful,  and  bring  my  angel  safe 
to  me  !  0  God  !  be  just,  and  strike 
lier  not  for  my  offences  ! 

"  Besides  the  direct  perils  of  the 
sea  are  some  others  you  might  escape 
by  prudence.  Pray  avoid  the  night 
air,  for  my  sake,  who  could  not  live 


42 


FOUL  PLAY. 


if  any  evil  befell  you  ;  and  be  careful 
in  your  diet.  You  were  not  loukinjj 
so  well  as  usual  when  I  left.  Would 
I  had  words  to  make  you  know  your 
own  value.  Then  you  would  feel  it 
a  dutij  to  he  prudent. 

"  iiut  I  must  not  sadden  you  with 
my  fears  ;  let  me  turn  to  my  hopes. 
How  bright  they  are  !  what  joy,  what 
happiness,  is  sailiug  towards  me, 
nearer  and  nearer  every  day  !  I  ask 
myself  what  am  I  that  such  paradise 
should  be  mine. 

"  My  love,  when  we  are  one,  shall 
we  share  every  thought,  or  shall  I 
keep  commeixe,  speculation,  and  its 
temptations  away  fioni  your  pure 
spirit  ?  Sometimes  I  think  I  should 
like  to  have  neitiier  thougiit  nor  oc- 
cupation unshared  by  you  ;  and  that 
you  would  purify  trade  itself  by  your 
contact ;  at  other  times  I  say  to  my- 
self, '  0,  never  soil  that  angel  with 
your  miserable  business ;  but  go 
home  to  her  as  if  you  were  going 
from  earth  to  heaven,  for  a  few  bliss- 
ful hours.'  But  you  shall  decide  this 
question,  and  every  other. 

"  Must  I  close  this  letter  ?  Must  I 
say  no  more,  though  I  have  scarcely 
begun  ? 

"  Yes,  I  will  end,  since,  perhaps, 
you  will  never  see  it. 

"  When  I  have  sealed  it,  I  mean  to 
hold  it  in  my  clasped  hands,  and  so 
pray  the  Almighty  to  take  it  safe  to 
you,  and  to  bring  you  safe  to  him 
who  can  never  know  peace  nor  joy 
till  he  sees  you  once  more. 

"  Your  devoted  and  anxious  lover, 
"  Arthur  Wardlaav." 

Helen  Kolleston  read  this  letter 
more  than  once.  Slio  liked  it  none 
the  less  for  being  disconnected  and 
nnbusiness-likc.  She  had  seen  her 
Arthur's  business  letters  ;  models  of 
courteous  conciseness.  She  did  not 
value  such  compositions.  This  one 
she  did.  She  smiled  over  it,  all  beam- 
ing and  blushing  ;  she  kissed  it,  and 
read  it  again,  and  sat  with  it  in  her 
lap. 

But  by  and  by  her  mood  changed, 


and,  when  Mr.  Hazel  ventured  upon 
deck  again,  he  found  her  with  her 
forehead  sinking  on  her  extended  arm, 
and  the  lax  hand  of  that  same  arm 
holding  the  letter.     She  was  crying. 

The  whole  drooping  attitude  was 
so  lovel}^  so  feminine,  yet  so  sad, 
that  Hazel  stood  irresolute,  looking 
wistfully  at  her. 

She  caught  sight  of  him,  and,  by  a 
natural  impulse,  turned  gently  away, 
as  if  to  hide  her  tears.  But  the  next 
moment  she  altered  her  mind,  and 
said,  with  a  quiet  dignity  that  came 
naturally  to  her  at  times,  "  Why 
should  I  hide  mj-  care  from  you,  sir  1 
Mr.  Hazel,  may  I  speak  to  you  as  a 
clercjjjman  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  said  Mr.  Hazel,  in  a 
somewhat  faint  voice. 

She  pointed  to  a  seat,  and  he  sat 
down  near  her. 

She  was  silent  for  some  time  ;  her 
lip  quivered  a  little ;  she  was  strug- 
gling inwardly  for  that  decent  com- 
posure which  on  certain  occasions 
distinguishes  the  lady  from  the  mere 
woman ;  and  it  was  with  a  pretty 
firm  voice  she  said  what  follows  :  — 

"  I  am  going  to  tell  you  a  little 
secret :  one  I  have  kept  from  my 
o^\VL  father.  It  is,  —  that  I  have  not 
very  long  to  live." 

Her  hazel  eye  rested  calmly  on  his 
face  Avhile  she  said  these  words 
quietly. 

He  received  them  with  amazement 
at  first ;  amazement,  that  soon  deep- 
ened into  horror.  "  What  do  you 
mean  ?  "  he  gasped.  "  "What  words 
are  these  ? " 

"  Thank  you  for  minding  so  much," 
said  she,  sweetly.  "  I  will  tell 
you.  I  have  fits  of  coughing,  not 
frequent,  but  violent;  and  then  blood 
very  often  comes  from  my  lungs. 
That  is  a  bad  sign,  you  know.  I 
have  been  so  for  four  months  now, 
and  I  am  a  good  deal  wasted  ;  my 
hand  used  to  be  very  plump,  look  at 
it  now.  —  Poor  Arthur  !  " 

She  turned  away  her  head  to  drop 
a  gentle,  unselfish  tear  or  two  ;  and 
Hazel  stared  with  increasing  alarm  at 


FOUL  PLAY. 


43 


the  Icvely  but  wasted  hand  she  still 
held  out  to  him,  and  glanced,  too,  at 
Arthur  Wardlaw's  letter,  held  slightly 
by  the  beloved  fingers. 

He  said  nothing,  and,  when  she 
looked  round  again,  he  was  pale  and 
trembling.  The  revelation  was  so 
sudden. 

"  Pray  be  calm,  sir,"  said  she. 
"  We  need  speak  of  this  no  more. 
But  now,  I  think,  you  will  not  be 
surprised  that  I  come  to  you  for  re- 
ligious advice  and  consolation,  short 
as  our  acquaintance  is." 

"  I  am  in  no  condition  to  give 
them,"  said  Hazel,  in  great  agitation. 
"  I  can  think  of  nothing  but  liow  to 
save  you.  May  Heaven  help  me,  and 
give  me  wisdom  for  that." 

"  This  is  idle,"  said  Helen  Rolles- 
ton,  gently,  but  firmly.  "  I  have  had 
the  best  advice  for  months,  and  I  get 
worse ;  and,  Mr.  Hazel,  I  shall  never 
be  better.  So  aid  me  to  bow  to  the 
will  of  Heaven.  Sir,  I  do  not  repine 
at  leaving  the  world ;  but  it  does 
grieve  me  to  think  how  my  departure 
will  affect  those  whose  happiness  is 
very,  very  dear  to  nie." 

She  then  looked  at  the  letter, 
blushed,  and  hesitated  a  moment ;  but 
ended  by  giving  it  to  him  whom  she 
had  applied  to  as  her  religious  adviser. 

"  Oblige  me  by  reading  that.  And, 
when  you  have,  I  think  you  will  grant 
me  a  favor  I  wish  to  ask  you.  Poor 
fellow !  so  full  of  hopes  that  I  am 
doomed  to  disappoint." 

She  rose  to  hide  her  emotion,  and 
left  Arthur  Wardlaw's  letter  in  the 
hands  of  him  who  loved  her,  if  pos- 
sible, more  devotedly  than  Arthur 
Wardlavv  did ;  and  she  walked  the 
deck  pensively,  little  dreaming  how 
strange  a  thing  she  had  done. 

As  for  Hazel,  he  was  in  a  situation 
poignant  with  agony ;  only  the  lieavy 
blow  that  had  just  fallen  had  stunned 
and  benumbed  him.  He  felt  a  natural 
repugnance  to  read  this  letter.  But 
she  had  given  him  no  choice.  He 
read  it.  In  reading  it  he  felt  a  mortal 
sickness  come  over  him,  but  he  per- 
severed ;  he  read  it  carefully  to  the 


end,  and  he  was  examining  the  sig- 
nature keenly,  when  Miss  Rolleston 
rejoined  him,  and,  taking  the  letter 
from  him,  placed  it  in  her  bosom  be- 
fore ills  eyes. 

"  He  loves  me ;  does  he  not  ? "  said 
she,  wistfully. 

Hazel  looked  half  stupidly  in  her 
lace  for  a  moment ;  then,  with  a  can- 
dor which  was  part  of  his  character, 
replied,  doggedly,  "  Yes,  the  man  wiio 
wrote  that  letter  loves  you." 

"  Then  you  can  pity  him,  and  I 
may  venture  to  ask  you  the  favor 
to  —  It  will  be  a  bitter  grief  and 
disappointment  to  him.  Will  you 
break  it  to  him  as  gently  as  you  can  ; 
will  you  say  tiiat  his  Helen —  Will 
you  tell  him  what  I  have  told  you  1 " 

"  I  decline." 

This  point-blank  refusal  surprised 
Helen  Rolleston  ;  all  the  more  that  it 
was  uttered  with  a  certain  sulleuness, 
and  even  asperity,  siie  had  never  seen 
till  then  in  this  gentle  clergyman. 

It  made  her  fear  she  had  done  wrong 
in  asking  it ;  and  she  looked  ashamed 
and  distressed. 

However,  the  explanation  soon  fol- 
lowed. 

"My  business,"  said  he,  "is  to  pro- 
long your  precious  life ;  and,  making 
up  your  mind  to  die  is  not  the  way. 
You  shall  have  no  encouragement  in 
such  weakness  from  me.  Pray  let  me 
be  your  physician." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Helen,  coldly ; 
"  I  have  my  own  physician." 

"No  doubt:  but  he  shows  me  his 
incapacity,  by  allowing  you  to  live  on 
pastry  and  sweets ;  things  that  arc 
utter  poison  to  you.  Disease  of  tlie 
lungs  is  curable,  but  not  by  drugs  and 
unwholesome  food." 

"  Mr.  Hazel,"  said  the  lady,  "  we 
will  drop  the  subject,  if  j-ou  please. 
It  has  taken  an  uninteresting  turn." 

"  To  you,  perhaps  ;  but  not  to 
me." 

"  Excuse  me,  sir  ;  if  you  took  that 
real  friendly  interest  in  me  and  my 
condition  I  was  vain  enough  to  think 
you  might,  you  would  hardl}^  have  re- 
fused mo  the  first  favor  I  ever  asked 


44 


FOUL  PLAY. 


you  ;  and,"  clrnwinj^  herself  up  proud- 
ly, "  iH'cd  I  say  the  l;ist  ?  " 

"  You  are  unjust,"  said  Hiizel,  sad- 
ly ;  "  unjust  beyond  enduniiice.  I 
refuse  you  anj-tliinfj  that  is  for  your 
good  ?  I,  who  would  lay  down  my 
life  with  unmixed  joy  for  you  ■?" 

"  ]Mr.  Hazel !  "  And  she  drew  back 
from  him  wiili  a  hauglity  stare. 

"  Learn  the  truth  why  I  cannot, 
and  will  not,  talk  to  Arthur  Ward- 
law  about  you.  For  one  thing,  he  is 
my  enemy,  and  I  am  his." 

"  His  enemy  ?  my  Arthur's !  " 

"  His  mortal  enemy.  And  I  am 
going  to  England  to  clear  an  inno- 
cent man,  and  expose  Arthur  Ward- 
law's  guilt." 

"  Indeed,"  said  Helen,  with  lofty 
contempt.  "  And  pray  what  has  he 
done  to  1/ou?  " 

"  He  had  a  bcnefoctor,  a  friend  ; 
he  entrapped  him  into  cashing  a  note 
of  hand,  which  he  must  have  known 
or  sus])cct<d  to  be  forged  ;  then  base- 
ly deserted  him  at  tiie  trial,  and  blast- 
ed his  fiiend's  life  forever." 

"  Arthur  Wardlaw  did  that  ?  " 

"  He  did  ;  and  that  ver}'  James 
Scalon  was  his  victim." 

Her  delicate  nostrils  were  expanded 
with  wrath,  and  her  eyes  flashed  fire. 
"  Mr.  Hazel,  you  are  a  liar  and  a 
slanderer." 

The  man  gave  a  kind  of  shudder, 
as  if  cold  steel  h:id  passed  through 
his  heart.  But  his  fortitude  was 
great;  he  said,  doggedly,  "  Time  will 
show.  Time,  and  a  jury  of  our  coun- 
trymen." 

"  1  will  be  his  witncs<!.  I  will  say, 
this  is  the  malice  of  a  rival.  Yes,  sir, 
you  forgi't  that  yon  have  let  out  the 
nioiivc  of  this  wicked  slander.  You 
love  me  yourself;  Heaven  forgive  me 
for  profaning  the  name  of  love  !  " 

"  Heaven  forgive  you  for  blasphem- 
ing the  purest,  fondest  love  that  ever 
one  creature  laid  at  the  feet  of  another. 
Yes,  Helen  Kollcston,  I  love  you ; 
and  will  save  you  fiom  the  grave  ami 
from  the  villain  Wardlaw  ;  both  from 
one  and  the  other." 

"  O,"   said    Helen,   clenching  her 


teeth,  "  I  hope  this  is  true ;  I  hope 
you  do  love  me,  you  wretch  ;  then  I 
may  find  a  way  to  jiunish  you  for  be- 
lying the  absent,  and  stabbing  me  to 
the  heart,  through  him." 

Her  throat  swelled  with  a  violent 
convulsion,  and  she  could  utter  no 
more  for  a  moment ;  aiul  she  put  her 
white  handkerchief  to  her  lips,  and 
drew  it  away  discolored  slightly  with 
blood. 

"  Ah  !  you  love  me,"  she  cried ; 
"  then  know,  for  your  comfort,  that 
you  have  sliortened  my  short  life  a 
day  or  two,  by  slandering  liiin  to  my 
face,  you  monster.  Look  there  at 
your  love,  and  see  what  it  has  done 
for  me." 

She  put  the  handkerchief  under  his 
eyes,  with  hate  gleaming  in  her  own. 

Mr.  Hazel  turned  ashy  pale,  and 
glared  at  it  with  horror;  he  could 
have  seen  his  own  shed,  with  stoical 
firmness  ;  but  a  mortal  sickness  struck 
his  heart  at  the  sight  of  //cr  blood.  His 
hands  rose  and  quivered  in  a  peculiar 
way,  his  sight  left  him,  and  the  strong 
man,  but  tender  lover,  staggered,  and 
fell  heavily  on  the  deck,  in  a  dead 
swoon,  and  lay  at  her  feet  pale  and 
motionless. 

She  uttered  a  scream,  and  sailors 
came  running. 

They  lifted  him,  with  rough  sym- 
pathy ;  and  Helen  Kollcston  retired 
to  her  cabin,  panting  with  agitation. 
But  she  had  little  or  no  pity  foi-  the 
slanderer.  She  read  Arthur  Ward- 
law's  letter  again,  kissed  it,  wept  over 
it,  reproached  herself  for  not  having 
loved  the  writer  enougii ;  and  vowed 
to  repair  that  fault.  "  Poor  slandered 
Arthur,"  said  she  ;  "from  this  hour  I 
will  love  you  as  devotedly  as  you  love 
me." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

After  this,  Helen  Kollcston  and 
Mr.  Ha/el  never  spoke.  SIk;  walked 
])ast  him  on  the  deck  with  cold  and 
haughty  contempt. 

He  quietly  submitted   to   it;   and 


FOUL  PLAY, 


45 


never  presumed  to  say  one  word  to 
her  again.  Only,  as  his  determination 
was  equal  to  liis  delicacy,  Miss  Kol- 
leston  found,  one  day,  a  paper  on  her 
tal)le,  containing  advice  as  to  the 
trearmcnt  of  disordered  hings,  ex- 
pressed with  apparent  coldness,  and 
backed  by  a  string  of  medical  author- 
ities, quoted  mcmoriter. 

She  sent  this  back  directly,  in- 
dorsed with  a  line,  in  pencil,  tliat  she 
would  try  h:ird  to  live,  now  she  had  a 
friend  to  protect  from  calumny;  but 
should  use  her  own  judgment  as  to 
the  means. 

Yet  women  will  be  women.  She 
had  carefully  taken  a  copy  of  his 
advice  before  she  east  it  out  with 
scorn. 

He  replied,  "  Live  with  whatever 
motive  you  please  ;  only  live." 

To  this  she  vouchsafed  no  answer; 
nor  did  this  unhappy  man  trouble 
her  aijain,  until  an  occasion  of  a  very 
dilfurent  kind  arose. 

One  fine  night  he  sat  on  the  deck, 
with  his  back  against  the  main-mast, 
in  deep  melancholy  and  listlessness, 
and  fell,  at  last,  into  a  doze,  from 
wiiich  he  was  wakened  by  a  peculiar 
sound  below.  It  was  a  beautiful  and 
stilly  night;  all  sounds  were  magni- 
fied ;  and  the  father  of  all  rats  seemed 
to  be  gnawing  the  ship  down  be- 
low. 

Hazel's  curiosity  was  excited,  and 
he  went  softly  down  the  ladder  to  see 
what  the  sound  really  was.  But  that 
was  not  so  easj',  for  it  proved  to  bo 
below  decks ;  but  he  saw  a  light 
glimmering  through  a  small  scuttle 
abaft  the  mate's  cabin,  and  the  sounds 
were  in  the  neighborhood  of  that 
light. 

It  now  flashed  upon  Mr.  Hazel 
that  this  was  the  A-ery  quarter  where 
he  had  heard  that  mysterious  knock- 
ing when  the  ship  was  lying  to  in  the 
gale. 

Upon  this  a  certain  degree  of  vague 
suspicion  began  to  mingle  with  his 
curiosity. 

He  stood  still  a  moment,  listening 
acutely  ;  then  took  off  his  shoes  very 


quietly,  and  moved  with  noiseless  foot 
towards  the  scuttle. 

The  gnawing  still  continued. 

lie  put  his  head  thnjugli  the  scut- 
tle, and  peered  into  a  dark,  dismal 
])lace,  whose  very  existence  was  new 
to  him.  It  was,  in  fact,  a  vacant 
space  between  the  cargo  and  the 
ship's  run.  This  wooden  cavern  was 
very  narrow,  but  not  less  than  fifteen 
feet  long.  The  candle  was  at  the 
farther  end,  and  between  it  and  Hazel 
a  man  was  working,  with  his  flank 
turned  towards  the  spectator.  This 
partly  intercepted  the  light;  but  still 
it  revealed  in  a  fitful  way  the  huge 
ribs  of  the  ship,  and  her  inner  skin, 
that  formed  the  right-hand  partition, 
so  to  speak,  of  this  black  cavern  ;  and 
close  outside  those  gaunt  timbers 
was  heard  the  wash  of  the  sea. 

There  was  something  solemn  in 
the  close  proximity  of  that  tremen- 
dous element  and  the  narrowness  of 
the  wooden  barrier. 

The  bare  place,  and  the  gentle,  mo- 
notonous wash  of  the  li(piid  monster, 
on  that  calm  night,  conveyed  to  Mr. 
Hazel's  mind  a  thouglit  akin  to  Da- 
vid's. 

"  As  the  Lord  liveth,  and  as  thy 
soul  liveth,  there  is  but  a  step  between 
me  anil  death." 

Judge  whether  that  thought  grew 
weaker  or  stronger,  when,  after  strain- 
ing his  eyes  for  some  time,  to  under- 
stand what  was  goinsf  on  at  that  mid- 
night hour,  in  that  hidden  place,  he 
saw  who  was  the  workman,  and  what 
was  his  occupation. 

It  was  Joseph  Wylie,  the  mate. 
His  profile  was  illuminated  by  the 
candle,  and  looked  ghastly.  He  had 
in  his  hands  an  auger  of  enormous 
size,  and  with  this  he  was  drilling  a 
great  hole  through  the  ship's  side,  just 
below  the  water-mark;  an  act,  the 
effect  of  which  would  be  to  let  the  sea 
bodily  into  the  ship  and  sink  her,  with 
every  soul  on  board,  to  the  bottom  of 
the  Pacific  Ocean. 

"  I  was  stupefied ;  and  my  hairs 
stood  on  end,  and  my  tongue  clove  to 
my  jaws." 


46 


FOUL  PLAY. 


Thus  does  one  of  Virgil's  charac- 
ters describe  the  effect  his  mind  pro- 
duced upon  his  body,  in  a  terrible 
situation. 

Mr.  Hazel  had  always  ridiculed  that 
trite  line  as  a  pure  exa.;ri;eration  ;  but 
he  altered  his  opinion  after  that  event- 
ful night. 

When  he  first  saw  what  Wylie  was 
doing,  ohstupuit,  he  was  merely  be- 
numbed ;  but,  as  his  mind  reahzed 
the  fiendish  nature  of  the  act,  and  its 
tremendous  consequences,  his  hair 
actually  bristled,  and  for  a  few  min- 
utes at  least  he  could  not  utter  a 
Avord. 

In  that  interval  of  stupor,  matters 
took  another  turn.  The  auger  went 
in  up  to  the  haft :  then  Wylie  caught 
up  with  iiis  left  hand  a  woodeir  plug 
he  had  got  ready,  jerked  the  auger 
away,  caugiit  up  a  hammer,  and  swift- 
ly inserted  the  plug. 

Rapid  as  he  was,  a  single  jet  of 
water  came  squirting  viciously  in. 
But  Wylie  lost  no  time ;  he  tapped 
the  plug  smartly  with  his  hammer 
scA-eral  times,  and  then,  lifting  a  mal- 
let with  both  hands,  rained  heavy 
blows  on  it  that  drove  it  in,  and  shook 
the  ship's  side. 

Then  ILizel  found  his  voice,  and 
he  uttered  an  ejaculation  that  made 
the  mate  look  round ;  he  glared  at  the 
man  who  was  glaring  at  him,  and, 
staggering  backward,  trod  on  the  light, 
and  all  was  darkness  and  dead  si- 
lence. 

All  but  the  wash  of  the  sea  outside, 
and  that  louder  than  ever. 

But  a  short  interval  sufficed  to  re- 
store one  of  the  parties  to  his  natural 
self-possession. 

"  Lord,  sir,"  said  Wylie,  "  how 
you  startled  me !  You  should  not 
come  upon  a  man  at  iiis  work  like 
that.  We  might  have  had  an  acci- 
dent." 

"  What  were  you  doing  ?  "  said 
ILazel,  in  a  voice  that  quavered  in 
spite  of  him. 

"  Kcpairing  the  ship.  Found  a 
crack  or  two  in  her  inner  skin.   There, 


let  me  get  a  light,  and  I  'II  explain  it 
to  you,  sir." 

lie  groped  his  way  out,  and  invited 
Mr.  Hazel  into  his  cabin.  There  he 
struck  a  light,  and,  with  great  civility, 
tendered  an  explanation.  The  ship, 
he  said,  had  labored  a  good  deal  in 
the  last  gale,  and  he  had  discovered 
one  or  two  flaws  in  her,  which  were 
of  no  immediate  importance  ;  but  ex- 
perience had  taught  him  that  in  calm 
weather  a  ship  ought  to  be  kept  tight. 
"As  they  say  ashore,  a  stitch  in  time 
saves  nine." 

"  But  drilling  holes  in  her  is  not 
the  way,"  said  Hazel,  sternly. 

The  mate  laughed.  "  Why,  sir," 
said  he,  "what  other  way  is  there? 
We  cannot  stop  an  irregular  crack ; 
we  can  frame  nothing  to  fit  it.  The 
way  is  to  get  ready  a  plug  measui-ed 
a  trifle  larger  than  the  aperture  you 
are  going  to  make  ;  then  drill  a  round 
hole,  and  force  in  the  plug.  I  know 
no  other  way  than  that ;  and  I  was  a 
ship's  carpenter  for  ten  years  before 
I  was  a  mate." 

This  explanation,  and  the  manner 
in  which  it  was  given,  removed  Mr. 
Hazel's  apprehensions  for  the  time 
being.  "  It  was  very  alarming,"  said 
he ;  "  but  I  suppose  you  know  your 
business." 

"  Nobody  better,  sir,"  said  Wylie. 
"  Why,  it  is  not  one  seaman  in  three 
that  Mould  trouble  his  head  about  a 
flaw  in  a  shi])'s  inner  skin;  but  I'm 
a  man  that  looks  ahead.  Will  you 
have  a  glass  of  grog,  sir,  now  a'ou  are 
here  ?  I  keep  that  under  my  eye, 
too  ;  between  ourselves,  if  the  skipper 
had  as  much  in  his  cabin  as  I  have 
here,  that  might  be  worse  for  us  all 
than  a  crack  or  two  in  the  ship's  in- 
ner skin." 

Mr.  Hazel  declined  to  drink  grog 
at  that  time  in  the  morning,  but 
wished  him  good  night,  and  left  Iiim 
with  a  better  opinion  of  him  than  he 
had  ever  had  till  then. 

Wylie,  wlien  he  was  gone,  drew  a 
tumbler  of  neat  spirits,  drank  half, 
and  carried  the  rest  back  to  his  work. 

Yet  Wylie  was  a  very  sober  man  in 


FOUL  PLAY. 


47 


a  general  way.    Eum  was  his  toor ;  I 
not  liis  master. 

AVlicn  Hazel  came  to  think  of  it 
all  next  day,  he  did  not  feel  quite  so 
easy  as  he  had  done.  The  inner 
skill !  But,  when  Wylie  withdrew 
his  auger,  the  water  had  squirted  in 
furiously.  He  felt  it  hard  to  believe 
that  this  keen  jet  of  water  could  be 
caused  by  a  small  quantity  that  had 
found  its  way  between  the  skin  of  the 
ship  and  her  copper,  or  her  top  boot- 
ing ;  it  seemed  rather  to  be  due  to  the 
direct  pressure  of  the  liquid  monster 
outride. 

He  went  to  the  captain  that  after- 
noon, and  first  told  him  what  he  had 
seen,  oft'ering  no  solution.  The  cap- 
tain, on  that  occasion,  was  in  an  am- 
phibious state  ;  neither  wet  nor  dr}' ; 
and  his  reply  was  altogetlier  excep- 
tional. He  received  the  communica- 
tion with  pompous  civility  ;  then 
swore  a  great  oath,  and  said  he  would 
put  the  mate  in  irons :  "  Confound 
the  lubber !  he  will  be  through  the 
ship's   bottom." 

"  But,  stop  a  moment,"  said  Mr. 
Hazel,  "  it  is  only  fair  you  should 
also  hear  iiow  he  accounts  for  his  pro- 
ceeding." 

The  captain  listened  attentively 
to  the  explanation,  and  altei'ed  his 
tone.  "  O,  that  is  a  different  mat- 
ter," said  he.  "  You  need  be  under 
no  alarm,  sir ;  the  thundering  lubber 
knows  what  he  is  about,  at  that  work. 
Why,  he  has  been  a  ship's  carpenter 
all  his  life.  Him  a  seaman  !  If  any- 
thing ever  happens  to  me,  and  Joe 
Wylie  is  set  to  navigate  this  ship, 
then  you  may  say  your  prayers.  He 
is  n't  lit  to  sail  a  wash-tub  across  a 
duck-pond.  But  I  '11  you  what  it  is," 
added  this  worthy,  with  more  pom- 
posity than  neatness  of  articulation, 
"  here  's  respeckable  passenger  brought 
me  a  report ;  do  my  duty  to  m'  em- 
ployers, and  —  take  a  look  at  th-e 
well." 

He  accordingly  chalked  a  plumb- 
line,  and  went  and  sounded  the  well." 

There  were  eight  inches  of  water. 
Hudson  told  him  that  was  no  more 


than  all  ships  contained  from  various 
causes;  "In  fact,"  said  he,  "our 
pumps  suck,  and  will  not  draw,  at 
eight  inches."  Then  suddenly  grasp- 
ing Mr.  Hazel's  hand,  he  said,  in 
tearful  accents,  "  Don't  you  trouble 
your  head  about  Joe  Wylie,  or  any 
"such  scum.  1  'm  skipper  of  the  Pro- 
ser])inc,  and  a  man  that  does  his  duty 
to  'z  employers.  Mr.  Hazel,  sir,  I  'd 
come  to  my  last  anchor  in  that  well 
this  moment,  if  my  duty  to  m'  em- 
ployers required  it.  B —  my  eyes  if  I 
would  n't  lie  down  there  this  minute, 
and  never  move  to  all  eternity  and  a 
day  after,  if  it  was  my  duty  to  m'  em- 
ployers !  " 

"  No  doubt,"  said  Hazel,  dryly. 
"  But  I  think  you  can  serve  your 
employers  better  in  other  parts  of  the 
ship."  He  then  left  him,  with  a 
piece  of  advice  ;  "  to  keep  his  eye  up- 
on that  Wylie." 

Mr.  Hazel  kept  his  own  eye  on 
Wylie  so  constantly,  that  at  eleven 
o'clock  p.  M.  he  saw  that  worthy  go 
into  the  captain's  cabin  with  a  quart 
bottle  of  rum. 

The  coast  was  clear;  the  tempta- 
tion great. 

These  men  then  were  still  deceiv- 
ing him  with  a  feigned  antagonism. 
He  listened  at  the  keyhole,  not  with- 
out some  compunction  ;  which,  how- 
ever, became  less  and  less  as  frag- 
ments of  the  dialogue  reached  his  ear. 
For  a  long  time  the  only  speaker 
was  Hudson,  and  his  discourse  ran 
upon  his  own  exploits  at  sea.  But 
suddenly  Wylic's  voice  broke  in  with 
an  unmistakable  tone  of  superiority. 
"  Belay  all  that  chat,  and  listen  to 
me.  It  is  time  we  settled  something. 
I  '11  hear  what  you  have  got  to 
say ;  and  then  you  '11  do  what  /  say. 
Better  keep  your  hands  off  the  bot- 
tle a  minute ;  you  have  had  enough 
for  the  present;  this  is  business.  I 
know  you  are  good  for  jaw  ;  but  what 
are  you  game  to  do  for  the  gover- 
nor's money  '?     Anything  ?  " 

"  More  than  you  have  ever  seen  or 
heard  tell  of,  ye  lubber,"  replied  the 
irritated  skipper.      "  Who  has  ever 


48 


FOUL  PLAY, 


served  his  employers  like  Hiram 
Hudson  ?  " 

"Ivcep  that  song  for  your  quarter- 
deck," retorted  the  mate,  contempt- 
uoutdy.  "  No  ;  on  second  thoughts, 
just  tell  me  how  you  have  served 
your  employers,  you  old  humbug. 
Give  me  diapter  and  verse  to  choose 
from.     Come  now,  the  Neptune?  " 

"  Well,  the  Neptune  ;  she  caught 
fire  a  hundred  leagues  from  land." 

"  How  came  she  to  do  that?  " 

"  That  is  my  business.  Well,  I 
put  her  head  before  the  wind,  and 
ran  for  the  Azores;  and  I  stuck  to 
her,  sir,  till  she  was  as  black  as  a 
coal,  and  we  could  n't  stand  on  deck, 
but  kept  hopping  like  parched  peas  ; 
and  lire  belching  out  of  lier  port- 
holes forward  :  then  we  took  to  tlie 
boats,  and  saved  a  few  bales  of  silk 
by  way  of  sample  of  her  cargo,  and 
got  ashore ;  and  she  'd  have  come 
ashore  too  next  tide  and  told  tales, 
but  Somebody  left  a  keg  of  gun- 
powder in  the  cabin,  with  a  long 
fuse,  and  blew  a  hole  in  her  old  ribs, 
that  the  water  came  in,  and  down  she 
■went,  iiissing  like  ten  thousand  sar- 
pints,  and  nobody  the  wiser." 

"  Who  lighted  the  fuse,  I  wonder  ?  " 
said  Wylie. 

"Didn't  I  tell  ye  it  was  'Some- 
body '  ?  "  said  Hudson.  "  Hand  me 
the  stiff."  He  replenished  his  glass, 
and,  after  taking  a  sip  or  two,  asked 
Wylie  if  he  had  ever  had  the  luck  to 
be  boarded  by  jjirates. 

"  No,"  said  Wylie.    "  Have  you  ?  " 

"  Ay ;  and  they  rescued  me  from 
a  watery  grave,  as  the  lubbers  call 
it.  Ye  see,  I  was  employed  by 
Downes  and  Co.,  down  at  the  Ha- 
vanna,  and  cleared  for  Vera  Cruz 
with  some  boxes  of  old  worn-out 
printer's  type." 

"To  ))rint  psalm-books  for  the 
darkies,  no  doubt,"  suggested  W}'- 
lie. 

"  Insured  as  specie,"  continued 
Hudson,  ignoring  the  interruption. 
"  Well,  just  at  daybreak  one  morinng, 
all  of  a  sudden  there  was  a  rakish- 
looking  craft  on  our  weather-bow : 


lets  fly  a  nine-ponndcr  across  our 
forefoot,  and  was  alongside  b.'fore 
ray  men  could  tumble  up  from  below. 
I  got  knocked  into  the  sea  by  the 
boom  and  fiell  between  the  ships';  and 
the  pirate  he  got  hold  of  me  and 
poured  hot  grog  down  my  throat  to 
bring  me  to  my  senses." 

"  That  is  not  what  3-ou  use  it  fur  in 
general,"  said  Wylie.  "  Civil  sort  of 
pirate,  though." 

"  Pirate  be  d — d.  That  was  my 
consort  rigged  out  witli  a  black  flag, 
and  mounted  with  four  nine-pounders 
on  one  side,  and  five  dummies  on  the 
other.  He  blustered  a  bit,  and  swore, 
and  took  ovu^  type  and  our  cabbages 
(I  complained  to  Downes  ashore 
about  the  vagabond  taking  the  vege- 
tables), and  ordered  us  to  leeward 
under  all  canvas,  and  we  never 
saw  him  again,  —  not  till  he  had 
shaved  off  his  mustaches,  and  called 
on  Downes  to  condole  and  say  the 
varmint  had  chased  his  ship  fifty 
leagues  out  of  her  course  ;  but  he  had 
got  clear  of  him.  Downes  compli- 
mented me  jjublicly.  Says  he,  '  This 
skipper  boarded  the  ])irate  single- 
handed;  only  he  jumped  short,  and 
fell  between  the  two  ships ;  and  here 
he  is  by  a  miracle.'  Then  he  takes 
out  his  handkerchief,  and  flops  his 
head  on  my  shoulder.  '  His  merci- 
ful preservation  almost  reconciles  jnc 
to  the  loss  of  my  gold,'  says  the  thun- 
dering crocodile.  Cleared  S  70,000, 
he  dill,  out  of  the  Marhattan  Marine, 
and  gave  the  pirate  and  me  but 
£200  between  us  both." 

"  The  Rose  ?  "  said  Wylie. 

"  What  a  hurry  you  are  in  !  Pass 
the  grog.  Well,  the  Kose  ;  she  lay 
off  LTshant.  Wc  canted  her  to  wash 
the  decks  ;  lucky  she  had  a  carefid 
commander ;  not  like  KenijK'iifelt, 
whose  eye  was  in  his  pocket,  and  his 
fingers  held  the  pen,  so  he  went  to 
the  bottom,  with  Lord  knows  how 
nniny  men.  I  noticed  the  squalls 
came  very  sudden  ;  so  I  sent  most  of 
my  men  ashore,  and  got  the  boats 
ready  in  case  of  accident.  A  squall 
did  strike  her,  and  she  was  on  her 


FOUL  PLAY. 


49 


beam-ends  in  a  moment :  we  pulled 
ashore  with  two  bales  ot'  silk  by  way 
of  salvage,  and  sample  of  what  warn't 
in  her  hold  when  she  settled  down. 
We  landed ;  and  the  Frenchmen 
were  dancing  about  with  excitement. 
'  Captain,'  says  one,  '  you  have  much 
sang  fraw.'  '  Insured,  munseer,'  says 
I.     '  Bone,'  says  he. 

"  Then  there  was  the  Antelope,  lost 
in  charge  of  a  pilot  off  the  Hooghly. 
I  knew  the  water  as  well  as  he  did. 
We  were  on  the  port  tack,  standing 
towards  the  shoal.  Weather  it,  as  we 
should  have  done  next  tack,  and  I 
should  have  failed  in  my  duty  to  my 
employers.  Anything  but  that ! 
'  Look  out ! '  said  I.  '  Pilot,  she  fore- 
reaches  in  stays.'  Pilot  was  smok- 
ing; those  sandhead  pilots  smoke  in 
bed  and  asleep.  He  takes  his  cigar 
out  of  his  mouth  for  one  moment. 
'  Ready  about,'  says  he.  '  Hands 
'bout  ship.  Helms  a-lee.  liaise 
tacks  and  sheets.'  Round  she  was 
coming  like  a  top.  Pilot  smoking. 
Just  as  he  was  going  to  haul  the 
mainsel  Somebody  tripped  against 
him,  and  shoved  the  hot  cigar  in  his 
eye.  He  sung  out  and  swore,  and  there 
was  no  mainsel  haul.  Sliip  in  irons, 
tide  running  hard  on  to  the  siioal, 
and  before  we  could  clear  away  for 
anchoring,  hump  !  —  there  she  was 
hard  and  fast.  A  stiff  breeze  got  up 
at  sunrise,  and  she  broke  up.  Next 
day  I  was  sipping  my  grog  and  read- 
ing the  Bengal  Courier,  and  it  told 
the  disastrous  wreck  of  the  brig  Ante- 
lope, wrecked  in  charge  of  a  pilot; 
'  but  no  lives  lost,  and  the  owners 
fully  insured.'  Then  there  was  the 
bark  Sally.  Why,  you  saw  her  your- 
self distressed  on  a  lee  shore." 

'•  Yes,"  said  Wylie.  "  I  was  in  that 
tub,  the  Grampus,  ancj  we  contrived  to 
claw  off  the  Scillies ;  yet  you,  in  your 
smart  Sally,  got  ashore.   What  luck  !  " 

"  Luck  be  blowed  !  "  cried  Hudson, 
angrily.  "  Somebody  got  into  the 
chains  to  sound ;  and  cut  the  weather 
halyards.  Next  tack  the  masts  went 
over  the  side;  and  I  had  done  my 
duty." 


"  Lives  were  lost  that  time,  eh  ?  " 
said  Wylie,  gravely. 

"  What  is  that  to  you  ?  "  replied 
Hudson,  with  the  sudden  ire  of  a 
drunken  man.  "  Mind  your  own 
business.     Pass  me  the  bottle." 

"  Yes,  lives  was  lost :  and  always 
will  be  lost  in  sea-going  ships,  where 
the  skipper  does  his  duty.  There  was 
a  sight  more  lost  at  Trafalgar,  owing 
to  ecery  man  doing  his  duty.  Lives 
lost,  ye  lubber  ]  And  why  not  mine  ? 
Because  their  time  was  come  and 
mine  was  n't.  For  I  '11  tell  you  one 
thing,  Joe  Wylie,  —  if  she  takes  fire 
and  runs  before  the  wind  till  she  is  as 
black  as  a  coal,  and  belching  flame 
through  all  her  port-holes,  and  then 
explodes,  and  goes  aloft  in  ten  thou- 
sand pieces  no  bigger  than  mij  hat,  or 
your  knowledge  of  navigation,  Hud- 
son is  the  last  man  to  leave  her  : 
Duty!  —  If  she  goes  on  her  beam- 
ends  and  founders,  Hudson  sees  the 
last  of  her,  and  reports  it  to  his  em- 
ployers :  Duty  !  — '  If  she  goes  grind- 
ing on  Scilly,  Hudson  is  the  last  man 
to  leave  her  bones  :  Duty  !  —  Some 
day  perhaps  I  shall  be  swamped  my- 
self along  with  the  craft :  I  have  es- 
caped till  now,  owing  to  not  being  in- 
sured;  but  if  ever  my  time  should 
come,  and  you  should  get  clear,  prom- 
ise me,  Joe,  to  see  the  owners,  and 
tell  'em  Hudson  did  his  duty." 

Here  a  few  tears  quenched  his  noble 
ardor  for  a  moment.  But  he  soon  re- 
covered, and  said,  with  some  little 
heat,  "  You  have  got  the  bottle  again. 
I  never  saw  such  a  fellow  to  get  hold 
of  the  bottle.  Come,  here  's  '  Duty 
to  our  employers  ! '  And  now  I  '11 
tell  you  how  we  managed  with  the 
Carysbrook,  and  the  Amelia." 

This  promise  was  followed  by  fresh 
narratives  ;  in  particular,  of  a  vessel 
he  had  run  upon  the  Florida  reef  at 
night,  where  wreckers  liad  been  re- 
tained in  advance  to  look  out  for  sig- 
nals, and  come  on  board  and  quarrel 
on  pretence  and  set  fire  to  the  vessel, 
insured  at  thrice  her  value. 

Hudson  got  quite  excited  with  the 


50 


FOUL  PLAY. 


memory  of  these  exploits^  and  told 
each  successive  feat  louder  and 
louder. 

But  now  it  was  Wylie's  turn. 
"  Well,"  said  he,  very  gravely,  "  all 
this  was  child's  play." 

There  ^vas  a  pause  that  marked 
Hudson's  astonishment.  Then  he 
broke  out,  "  Child's  play,  ye  lubber  ! 
If  you  had  been  there  your  gills  would 
have  been  as  white  as  your  Sunday 
shirt ;  and  a  d — d  deal  whiter." 

"  Come,  be  civil,"  said  Wylie,  "  I 
tell  you,  all  the  ways  you  have  told 
me  are  too  suspicious.  Our  governor 
is  a  high-flier  :  he  i)ays  like  a  prince, 
and,  in  return,  he  must  not  be  blown 
on,  if  it  is  ever  so  little.  '  AVylic,' 
says  he,  '  a  breath  of  suspicion  woukl 
kill  me.'  '  Make  it  so  much,'  says  I, 
'  and  that  breath  shall  never  blow  on 
you.'  No,  no,  skipper  ;  none  of  those 
ways  will  do  for  us ;  they  have  all 
been  worked  twice  too  often.  It  must 
be  done  in  fair  weather,  and  in  a 
way —  Fill  your  glass  and  I'll  fill 
mine —  Capital  rum  this.  You  talk 
of  my  gills  turning  white  ;  before  long 
we  shall  see  whose  keeps  their  color 
best,  mine  or  yours,  my  Boy." 

There  was  a  silence,  during  wiiich 
Hudson  was  probably  asking  himself 
what  Wylie  meant ;  for  presently  ho 
broke  out  in  a  loud,  but  somewhat 
quivering  voice :  "  Why,  you  mad, 
drunken  devil  of  a  ship's  carpenter, 
red-hot  from  hell,  I  see  what  you  are 
at,  now  ;  you  are  going  —  " 

"  Hush  !  "  cried  Wylie,  alarmed  in 
his  turn.  "Is  this  the  sort  of  thing 
to  bellow  out  for  the  watch  to  liear  ? 
Wliisper,  now." 

This  was  followed  by  the  earnest 
mutterings  of  two  voices.  In  vain 
did  the  listener  send  las  very  soul  into 
his  ear  to  hear.  He  could  catch  no 
single  word.  Yet  he  could  tell,  by 
tlie  very  tones  of  the  spenkers,  that 
the  dialogue  was  one  of  mystery  and 
importance. 

llcrc  was  a  situation  at  once  irritat- 
ing and  alarming  ;  but  there  was  no 
help  for  it.  The  best  tlung,  now, 
seemed  to  be  to  withdraw  unobserved, 


and  wait  for  another  opportunity. 
He  did  so ;  and  he  had  not  long  re- 
tired, when  tlie  mate  came  out  stag- 
gering, and  flushed  with  liquor,  and 
that  was  a  thing  that  had  never  oc- 
curred before.  He  left  the  cabin  door 
ojien,  and  went  into  Ids  own  room. 

Soon  after  sounds  issued  from  the 
cabin,  —  peculiar  sounds,  something 
between  grunting  and  snoring. 

Mr.  Hazel  came  and  entered  the 
cabin.  There  he  found  the  captain 
of  the  Proserpine  in  a  position  very 
unfavorable  to  longevity.  His  legs 
were  crooked  over  the  seat  of  his 
chair,  and  his  head  was  on  the  ground. 
His  handkerchief  was  tight  round  liis 
neck,  and  the  man  himself  dead  drunk, 
and  purple  in  the  face. 

Mr.  Hazel  instantly  undid  his  stock, 
on  whicli  the  gallant  seaman  muttered 
inarticulately.  He  then  took  his  feet 
off  the  chair,  and  laid  them  on  the 
ground,  and  put  the  empty  bottle  un- 
der the  animal's  neck 

But  ho  had  no  sooner  done  all  this, 
than  he  had  a  serious  misgiving. 
Would  not  this  man's  death  have 
been  a  blessing  ?  Might  not  his  life 
prove  fatal  ? 

The  thought  infuriated  him,  and  he 
gave  the  prostrate  figure  a  heavy  kick 
that  almost  turned  it  over,  and  the 
words,  "  Duty  to  em])loyers,"  gurgled 
out  of  its  mouth  directly. 

It  really  seemed  as  if  these  sounds 
were  independent  of  the  mind,  and 
resided  at  the  tip  of  Hudson's  tongue  : 
so  that  a  thorough  good  kick  could, 
at  any  time,  shake  them  out  of  his 
inanimate  body. 

Thus  do  things  ludicrous  and 
things  terrible  mingle  in  the  real 
world  ;  only  to  those  who  are  in  the 
arena,  the  ludicrous  passes  unnoticed, 
being  overshadowed  by  its  terrible 
neighbor. 

And  so  it  was  with  Hazel.  He  saw 
nothing  absurd  in  all  this ;  and  in 
that  prostrate,  insensible  hog,  com- 
manding the  slnp,  forsooth,  and  car- 
rying all  their  lives  in  his  hands,  he 
saw  the  mysterious  and  alarming  only, 
saw  them  so,  and  felt  them,  that  he 


FOUL  PLAY. 


51 


lay  awake  all  night  thinking  what  he 
should  do,  and  early  next  day  he  went 
into  the  mate's  cabin,  and  said  to  him : 
"  Mr.  Wylie,  in  any  other  ship  I 
shonld  spsak  to  the  captain,  and  not 
to  the  mate ;  bnc  here  that  would  be 
no  use,  for  you  are  the  master,  and  he 
is  your  servant." 

"  Don't  tell  him  so,  sir,  for  he  does 
n't  think  small  beer  of  himself." 

"  I  shall  waste  no  more  words  on 
him.  It  is  to  you  I  speak,  and  you 
know  I  speak  the  trutli.  Here  is  a 
ship,  in  which,  for  certain  reasons 
known  to  yourself,  the  captain  is 
under  the  mate." 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  "Wylie,  good- 
humoredly,  "it  is  no  use  trying  to 
deceive  a  gentleman  like  you.  Our 
skipper  is  an  excellent  seaman,  but 
he  has  got  a  fault."  Then  Wylie 
imitated,  with  his  hand,  the  action  of 
a  person  filling  his  glass. 

"And  you  are  here  to   keep  him 
sober,  eh "? " 
Wylie  nodded. 

"  Then  why  do  you  ply  him  with 
liquor  1  " 

"  I  don't,  sir." 

"  You  do.  I  have  seen  you  do  it  a 
dozen  times :  and  last  night  you  took 
rum  into  his  room,  and  made  him  so 
drank,  he  would  have  died  where  he 
lay  if  I  had  not  loosed  his  handker- 
chief" 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  that,  sir  ;  but 
he  was  sober  when  I  left  him.  The 
fool  must  have  got  to  the  bottle  the 
moment  I  was  gone." 

"  But  that  bottle  you  put  in  his 
way ;  I  saw  you  :  and  what  was  your 
object  1  To  deaden  his  conscience 
with  liquor,  his  and  your  own,  while 
you  made  him  your  fiendish  proposal. 
Man,  man,  do  you  believe  in  God, 
and  in  a  judgment  to  come  for  the 
deeds  done  in  the  body,  that  you  can 
plan  in  cold  blood  to  destroy  a  vessel 
with  nineteen  souls  on  board,  besides 
the  live  stock,  the  innocent  animals 
that  God  pitied  and  spared  wlien  he 
raised  his  hand  in  wrath  over  Nineveh 
of  old  ? " 

While  the  clergyman  was   speak- 


ing, with  flashing  eyes  and  com- 
manding voice,  the  seaman  turned 
ashy  pale  ;  and  drew  his  shoulders  to- 
gether like  a  cat  preparing  to  defend 
her  life. 

"  I  plan  to  destroy  a  vessel,  sir ! 
You  never  heard  me  say  such  a  word ; 
and  don't  you  hint  such  a  thing  in  the 
ship,  or  you  will  get  yourself  into 
trouble." 

"  That  depends  on  you." 
"  How  so,  sir  ?  " 
"  I  have  long  suspected  you." 
"  You  need  not  tell  me  that,  sir." 
"But  I  have  not  communicated  my 
suspicions.     And  now  that  they  are 
certainties,  I  come  first   to  you.     In 
one  word,  will  you  forego  your  in- 
tention, since  it  is  found  out?  " 

"  How  can  I  forego  what  never  was 
in  my  head  ?  "  said  Wylie.  "  Cast 
away  the  ship !  Why,  there 's  no  land 
within  two  thousand  miles.  Founder 
a  vessel  in  the  Pacific  !  Do  you  think 
my  life  is  not  as  sweet  to  me  as  yours 
is  to  you  ?  " 

Wylie  eyed  him  keenly  to  see  the 
effect  of  these  words,  and,  by  a  puz- 
zled expression  that  came  over  his 
face,  saw  at  once  he  had  assumed  a 
more  exact  knowledge  than  he  really 
possessed. 

Hazel  replied  that  he  had  said  noth- 
ing about  foundering  the  ship  ;  but 
there  were  many  ways  of  destroying 
one.  "  For  instance,"  said  he,  "  I 
know  how  the  Neptune  was  de- 
stroyed, —  and  so  do  you  :  how  the 
Rose  and  the  Antelope  were  cast 
away,  —  and  so  do  you." 

At  this  enumeration,  Wylie  lost  his 
color  and  self-possession  for  a  mo- 
ment; he  saw  Hazel  had  been  lis- 
tening. Hazel  followed  up  his  blow. 
"  Promise  me  now,  by  all  you  hold 
sacred,  to  forego  tliis  villany ;  and  I 
hold  my  tongue.  Attempt  to  defy 
me,  or  to  throw  dust  in  my  eyes,  and 
I  go  instantly  among  the  crew,  and 
denoitnce  both  you  and  Hudson  to 
them." 

"  Good  Heavens  ! "  cried  Wylie,  in 
unfeigned  terror.  "Why,  the  men 
would  mutiny  on  the  spot." 


52 


FOUL  PLAY. 


"I  can't  help  that,"  said  Hazel, 
firmly;  and  took  a  step  towards  the 
door. 

"  Stop  a  bit,"  said  the  mate. 
"  Don't  be  in  such  a  nation  huny : 
for,  if  yon  do,  it  will  bo  bad  for  me, 
but  worse  for  you."  The  above  was 
said  so  gravely,  and  with  such  evident 
sincerity,  that  Mr.  Hazel  was  struck, 
and  showed  it.  Wylie  followed  up 
that  trifling  advantage.  "  Sit  down  a 
minute,  sir,  if  you  j^lease,  and  listen  to 
me.  You  never  saw  a  mutiny  on 
board  ship,  I  '11  be  bound.  It  is  a 
•worse  tiling  than  any  gale  that  ever 
blew  :  begins  fair  enougli,  sometimes  ; 
but  how  does  it  end  ?  In  breaking 
into  the  spirit-room,  and  drinking  to 
madness,  plundering  the  ship,  ravish- 
ing the  women,  and  cutting  a  throat 
or  so  for  certain.  Yovx  don't  seem  so 
fond  of  the  picture  as  you  was  of  the 
idea.  And  then  they  might  turn  a 
deaf  ear  to  you  after  all.  Ship  is  well 
found  in  all  stores  ;  provisions  served 
out  freely  ;  men  in  good  humor;  and 
I  have  got  their  ear.  And  now  I  '11 
tell  you  why  it  won't  suit  your  little 
game  to  blacken  me  to  the  crew,  upon 
the  bare  chance  of  a  mutiny."  He 
paused  for  a  moment,  then  resumed 
in  a  lower  tone,  and  revealed  himself 
the  extraordinary  man  he  was. 

"  You  see,  sir,"  said  he,  "  when  a 
man  is  very  ready  to  suspect  me,  I  al- 
ways suspect  him.  Now  30U  was 
uncommon  ready  to  suspect  me. 
Y"ou  did  n't  wait  till  you  came  on 
board ;  you  began  the  game  ashore. 
O,  what,  that  makes  you  open  one 
eye,  does  it"?  You  thought  I  did  n't 
know  you  again.  Knew  you,  my 
man,  the  moment  you  came  aboard. 
I  never  forget  a  face;  and  disguises 
don't  pass  on  me." 

It  was  now  Hazel's  turn  to  look 
anxious  and  discomposed. 

"  So,  then,  the  moment  I  saw  you 
suspected  me  I  was  down  upon  you. 
Well,  you  come  aboard  under  false 
colors.  We  did  n't  want  a  chap  like 
you  in  the  ship  ;  but  you  would  come. 
'  What  is  the  bloke  after? '  says  I,  and 
watches.     Y'ou  was  so  intent  suspect- 


ing me  of  this,  that,  and  t'  other,  that 
you  unguarded  yourself,  and  that  is 
common  too.  I  'm  blowed  if  it  is  n't 
the  lady  you  are  after.  With  all  my 
heart :  only  she  might  do  better,  aod 
I  don't  see  how  she  could  do  worse, 
unless  she  went  to  Old  Nick  for  a  mate. 
Now,  I  '11  tell  you  what  it  is,  my  man. 
I  've  been  in  tiouble  myself,  and  don't 
want  to  be  hard  on  a  poor  devil,  just 
because  he  sails  under  an  alias,  and 
lies  as  near  the  wind  as  he  can,  to 
weatiier  on  the  beaks  and  the  bobbies. 
But  one  good  turn  deserves  another : 
keep  your  dirty  suspicions  to  yourself; 
for  if  you  dare  to  open  your  lips  to 
the  men,  in  five  minutes,  or  less  than 
tliat,  you  shall  be  in  irons,  and  con- 
fined to  your  cabin  ;  and  we  '11  put 
you  ashore  at  tlie  first  port  that  flies 
tiie  British  flag,  and  hand  you  over  to 
the  authorities,  till  one  of  her  Ma- 
jesty's cruisers  sends  in  a  boat  for 
you." 

At  this  threat  Mr.  Hazel  hung  his 
head  in  confusion  and  disma.y. 

"  Come,  get  out  of  my  cabin.  Par- 
son Alias,"  shouted  ihc  mate  ;  "  and 
belay  your  foul  tongue  in  this  ship, 
and  don't  make  an  enemy  of  Joe 
AVylie,  a  man  that  will  eat  you  up 
else,  and  spit  you  out  again,  and  never 
brag.  Sheer  off,  I  say,  and  be  d — d 
to  you." 

Mr.  Hazel,  with  a  pale  face  and  sick 
heart,  looked  aghast  at  this  dangerous 
man,  who  could  be  fox  or  tiger,  as 
the  occasion  demanded. 

Surprised,  alarmed,  outwitted,  and 
out-menaced,  he  retired  with  dis- 
ordered countenance  and  uneven 
steps,  and  hid  himself  in  his  own 
cabin. 

The  more  he  weighed  the  whole 
situation,  the  more  clearly  did  he  sec 
that  he  was  utterly  powerless  in  tho 
hands  of  Wylie. 

A  skipper  is  an  emperor ;  and 
Hudson  liad  the  power  to  iron  him, 
and  set  him  on  sliore  at  the  nearest 
port.  Tlie  right  to  do  it  was  anoth- 
er matter  ;  but  even  on  that  head 
Wylie  could  furnish  a  plausible  ex- 
cuse for  the  act.     Retribution,  if  it 


FOUL   PLAY. 


53 


came  at  all,  would  not  be  severe,  and 
■would  be  three  or  four  years  coming  : 
and  wlio  i'cars  it  much,  when  it  is  so 
ddatory,  and  so  weak,  and  so  doubt- 
ful into  the  bargain  ? 

He  succumbed  in  silence  for  two 
days  ;  and  then,  in  spite  of  Wylie's 
threat,  he  made  one  timid  attempt  to 
approach  the  subject  with  Welch  and 
Cooper,  but  a  sailor  came  tip  instant- 
ly, and  sent  them  forward  to  reef 
topsails.  And,  whenever  he  tried  to 
enter  into  conversation  with  the  pair, 
some  sailor  or  other  was  sure  to  come 
up  and  listen. 

Then  he  saw  that  he  was  spotted  ; 
or,  as  we  say  nowadays,  picketed. 

He  was  at  his  wit's  end. 

He  tried  his  last  throw.  He  wrote 
a  few  lines  to  Miss  Rolleston,  request- 
ing an  interview.  Aware  of  the 
difficulties  he  had  to  encounter  liere, 
he  stilled  his  heart  by  main  force, 
and  wrote  in  terms  carefully  meas- 
ured. He  begged  her  to  believe  he 
had  no  design  to  intrude  upon  her, 
without  absolute  necessity,  and  for 
her  own  good.  Respect  for  her  own 
Mishcs  forbade  this,  and  also  his  self- 
respect. 

"  But,"  said  he,  "  I  have  made  a 
terrible  discovery.  Tlie  mate  and  the 
captain  certainly  intend  to  east  away 
this  ship.  No  doubt  they  will  try 
and  not  sacrifice  their  own  lives  and 
ours  ;  but  risk  them  they  must,  in  the 
very  nature  of  things.  Before  troub- 
ling you,  I  have  tried  all  I  could,  in 
tlie  way  of  persuasion  and  menace ; 
but  am  defeated.  So  now  it  rests 
with  you.  You,  alone,  can  save  us 
all.  I  will  tell  you  how,  if  you  will 
restrain  your  repugnance,  and  accord 
me  a  short  interview.  Need  I  say 
that  no  other  suliject  shall  be  intro- 
duced by  me?  In  England,  should 
we  ever  reach  it,  I  may  perhaps  try 
to  take  measures  to  regain  your  good 
opinion  ;  but  here,  I  am  aware,  that 
is  impossible ;  and  1  shall  make  no 
attempt  in  that  direction,  upon  my 
honor." 

To  this  came  a  pi'ompt  and  femi- 
nine reply  :  — 


"  The  ship  is  his.  The  captain 
and  the  mate  are  able  men,  appointed 
b}'  him.  Your  suspicions  of  these  poor 
men  are  calumnies,  and  of  a  piece 
with  your  other    monstrous  slanders, 

"  I  really  must  insist  on  your  liold- 
ing    no    further    communications   of 
any  sort   with    one    to  whom   your 
character  is  revealed    and  odious. 
"  H.  R." 

This  letter  benumbed  his  heart  at 
first.  A  letter?  It  was  a  blow;  a 
blow  from  her  he  loved,  and  she  hated 
him  ! 

His  long-suffering  love  gave  way 
at  last.  What  folly  and  cruelty  com- 
bined !  He  could  no  longer  make 
allowances  for  the  sjiite  of  a  woman 
whose  lover  had  been  traduced.  Rage 
and  despair  seized  him  ;  he  bit  his 
nails,  and  tore  his  hair  with  fury  ; 
and  prayed  Heaven  to  help  him  hute 
her  as  she  deserved,  "  the  blind,  in- 
solent idiot !  "  Yes,  these  bitter 
words  actually  came  out  of  his  mouth, 
in  a  torrent  of  fury. 

But  to  note  down  all  he  said  in 
his  rage,  would  be  useless;  and 
might  mislead,  for  this  was  a  gust 
of  fury  ;  and,  while  it  lasted,  the 
long-suffering  man  was  no  longer  him- 
self. 

As  a  proof  how  little  this  state  of 
mind  was  natural  to  him,  it  stirred 
up  all  the  bile  in  his  body,  and 
brought  on  a  severe  attack  of  yel- 
low jaundice,  accompanied  by  the 
settled  dejection  that  marks  that  dis- 
order. 

Meantime  the  Proserpine  glided  on, 
with  a  fair  wind,  and  a  contented 
crew.  She  was  well  found  in  stores  ; 
and  they  were  served  out  ungrudg- 
ingly. 

Every  face  on  board  beamed  with 
jollity,  except  poor  Hazel's.  He  crept 
about,  yellow  as  a  guinea;  a  very 
scarecrow. 

The  surgeon,  a  humane  man,  urged 
him  to  drink  sherry,  and  take  strong 
exercise. 

But  persons  afflicted  with  that  dis- 
tressing malady  are  obstinately  set 


54 


FOUL  PLAY. 


against  those  things  which  tend  to 
cure  it ;  this  is  a  feature  of  the  dis- 
ease. Mr.  Hazel  was  no  exception. 
And  then  his  heart  had  received  so 
many  blows,  it  had  no  power  left  to 
resist  the  depressing  cliect  of  his  dis- 
order. He  took  no  exercise ;  he  ate 
little  food.  He  lay,  listless  and  de- 
jected, about  the  deck,  and  let  disease 
do  what  it  pleased  with  him. 

The  surgeon  shook  his  head,  and 
told  Hudson  the  parson  was  booked. 

"  And  good  riddance  of  bad  rub- 
bish ! "  was  that  worthy's  gracious 
comment. 

The  ship  now  encountered  an  ad- 
verse gale,  and,  for  three  whole  days, 
was  under  close-reefed  top-sails  ;  she 
was  always  a  wet  ship  under  stress  of 
weather ;  and  she  took  in  a  good  deal 
of  water  on  this  occasion.  On  the 
fourth  day  it  fell  calm,  and  Captain 
Hudson,  having  examined  the  well, 
and  found  three  feet  of  water,  ordered 
the  men  to  the  pumps. 

After  working  through  one  watch, 
the  well  was  sounded  again,  and  the 
water  was  so  much  reduced  that  the 
gangs  were  taken  off;  and  the  ship 
being  now  becalmed,  and  the  weath- 
er lovely,  the  men  were  allowed  to 
dance  upon  deck  to  the  boatswain's 
fiddle. 

While  this  pastime  went  on,  the 
sun,  large  and  red,  reached  the  hori- 
zon, and  diffused  a  roseate  light  over 
the  entire  ocean. 

Not  one  of  the  current  descriptions 
of  heaven  approached  the  actual 
grandeur  and  beauty  of  the  blue  sky, 
flecked  with  ruby  and  gold,  and  its 
liquid  mirror  that  lay  below,  calm, 
dimpled,  and  glorified  by  that  trans- 
luflpnt,  rosy  tint. 

While  the  eye  was  yet  charmed 
with  this  enchanting  bridal  of  tlic  sea 
and  sky,  and  the  ear  amused  with  tiie 
merry  fiddle  and  the  nimble  feet,  tlurt 
tapped  the  sounding  deck  so  deftly  at 
every  note,  Coo])er,  who  had  been 
sounding  the  well,  ran  forward  all  of 
a  sudden,  and  flung  a  thunderbolt  in 
the  midst. 

"  A  LEAK  ! " 


CHAPTER  X. 

The  fiddle  ended  in  mid-tune,  and 
the  men  crowded  aft  with  anxious 
faces. 

The  captain  sounded  the  well,  and 
found  three  feet  and  a  h;ilf  water  in 
it.  He  ordered  all  hands  to  the 
pumps. 

They  turned  to  with  a  good  heart, 
and  pumped  watch  and  watch,  till 
daybreak. 

Their  exertions  counteracted  the 
leak,  but  did  no  more  ;  the  water  in 
the  well  was  neither  more  nor  less, 
perceptibly. 

This  was  a  relief  to  their  minds,  so 
far  ;  but  the  situation  was  a  very  se- 
rious one.  Sup]30se  foul  weather 
should  come,  and  the  vessel  ship 
water  from  above  as  well ! 

Now  all  those  who  were  not  on  the 
pumps  set  to  work  to  find  out  the  leak 
and  stop  it  if  possible.  With  candles 
in  their  hands,  they  crept  about  the 
ribs  of  the  ship,  narrowly  inspecting 
every  corner,  and  applying  their  ears 
to  every  suspected  place,  if  haply  they 
might  hear  the  water  coming  in.  The 
place  where  Hazel  hnd  found  Wylie 
at  work  Avas  examined,  along  with 
the  rest ;  but  neither  there  nor  any- 
where else  could  the  leak  lie  discov- 
ered. Yet  the  water  was  still  coming 
in,  and  rccjuired  unremitting  labor  to 
keep  it  under.  It  was  then  suggested 
by  AVylie,  and  the  opinion  gradually 
gained  ground,  that  some  of  the  seams 
had  opened  in  the  late  gale,  and  were 
letting  in  the  water  by  small  but  nu- 
merous apertures. 

Faces  began  to  look  cloudy  ;  and 
Hazel,  throwing  off  his  letliargy,  took 
his  spell  at  the  main  pump  witli  the 
rest. 

When  his  gang  was  relieved  he 
went  away,  batlied  in  pers])iration, 
and,  leaning  over  the  well,  sounded 
it. 

While  thus  em])]oycd,  the  mate 
came  behind  him,  witli  his  cat-like 
step,  and  said,  "  See  what  has  come 
on  us  with  your  forebodings  !  It  is 
the  unluckiest  thing  in  the  world  to 


FOUL   PLAY, 


55 


talk  fibout  losing  a  ship  when  she  is 
at  sea." 

"  You  are  a  more  dangerous  man 
on  board  a  ship  than  I  am,"  was 
Hazel's  prompt  reply. 

The  well  gave  an  increase  of  three 
inches. 

]\Ir.  Hazel  now  showed  excellent 
qualities.  He  worked  like  a  horse ; 
and,  finding  the  mate  skulking,  he 
reproached  him  before  the  men,  and, 
stripping  himself  naked  to  the  waist, 
invited  him  to  do  a  man's  duty.  The 
mate,  thus  challenged,  complied  with 
a  scowl. 

Tliey  labored  for  their  lives,  and  the 
quantity  of  water  they  discharged 
from  the  ship  was  astonishing ;  not 
less  than  a  hundred  and  ten  tons  every 
hour. 

They  gained  upon  the  leak  —  only 
two  inches  ;  but,  in  the  struggle  for 
life,  this  was  an  immense  victory.  It 
was  the  turn  of  the  tide. 

A  slight  breeze  sprung  up  from  the 
southwest,  and  tlie  captain  ordered 
the  men  from  the  buckets  to  make  all 
sail  on  the  ship,  the  pumps  still 
going. 

When  this  was  done,  he  altered  the 
ship's  course,  and  put  her  right  before 
tlie  wind,  steering  for  the  island  of 
Juan  Fernandez,  distant  eleven  hun- 
dred miles,  or  thereabouts. 

Probably  it  was  the  best  thing  he 
could  do,  in  that  awful  waste  of  water. 
But  its  effect  on  the  seamen  was  bad. 
It  was  like  giving  in.  They  got  a  little 
disheartened  and  flurried ;  and  the 
cold,  passionless  water  seized  the  ad- 
vantage. It  is  possible,  too,  that  the 
motion  of  the  ship  through  the  sea 
aided  the  leak. 

The  Proserpine  glided  through 
the  water  all  night,  like  some  terror- 
stricken  creature,  and  the  incessant 
pumps  seemed  to  be  her  poor  heart, 
beating  loud  with  breathless  fear. 

At  daybreak  she  had  gone  a  hun- 
dred and  twenty  miles.  But  this  was 
balanced  by  a  new  and  alarming  fea- 
ture. The  water  from  the  pumps  no 
longer  came  up  pure,  but  mixed  with 
what  appeared  to  b3  blood. 


This  got  redder  and  redder,  and 
struck  terror  into  the  more  supersti- 
tious of  the  crew. 

Even  Cooper,  whose  heart  was 
stout,  leaned  over  the  bulwarks,  and 
eyed  the  red  stream,  gushing  into  the 
sea  from  the  lee  scuppers,  and  said 
aloud,  "  Ay,  bleed  to  death,  ye  bitch. 
We  sha'  n't  be  long  behind  ye." 

Hazel  inquired,  and  found  the  ship 
had  a  quantity  of  dye-wood  amongst 
her  cargo  :  he  told  the  men  this,  and 
tried  to  keep  up  their  hearts  by  his 
words  and  his  example. 

Ho  succeeded  with  some  ;  but 
others  shook  their  heads.  And  by 
and  by,  even  while  he  was  working 
double  tides  for  them  as  well  as  for 
himself,  ominous  murmurs  met  his 
ear.  "  Parson  aboard  ! "  "  Man 
aboard,  with  t'other  world  in  his 
face  ! "  And  there  were  sinister 
glances  to  match. 

■He  told  this,  with  some  alarm,  to 
Welch  and  Cooper.  They  promised 
to  stand  by  him  ;  and  Welch  told  him 
it  was  all  the  mate's  doings  ;  he  had 
gone  amongst  the  men,  and  poisoned 
them. 

The  wounded  vessel,  with  her  ever- 
beating  heart,  had  run  three  hundred 
miles  on  the  new  tack.  She  had 
almost  ceased  to  bleed  ;  but  what  was 
as  bad,  or  worse,  small  fragments  of 
her  cargo  and  stores  came  up  with 
the  water,  and  their  miscellaneous 
character  showed  how  deeply  the  sea 
had  now  penetrated. 

This,  and  their  great  fatigue,  began 
to  demoralize  the  sailors.  The  pumps 
and  buckets  were  still  plied,  but  it 
was  no  longer  with  the  uniform  man- 
ner of  brave  and  hopeful  men.  Some 
stuck  dogged  13^  to  their  work,  but 
otlicrs  got  flurried,  and  ran  from  one 
thing  to  another.  Now  and  then  a 
man  would  stop,  and  burst  out  cry- 
ing ;  then  to  work  again  in  a  des- 
perate way.  One  or  two  lost  heart 
altogether,  and  had  to  be  driven. 
Finally,  one  or  two  succumbed  tm- 
der  tlie  unremitting  labor.  Despair 
crept  over  others  :  their  features  be- 
gan to  change,  so  much  so  that  sev- 


56 


FOUL   PLAY, 


eral  countenances  were  liardly  recog- 
nizable, and  each,  looking  in  the 
other's  troubled  face,  saw  his  own  fate 
pictured  there. 

Six  feet  water  in  the  hold  ! 

The  captain,  who  liad  been  sober 
beyond  his  time,  now  got  dead  drunk. 

The  mate  took  the  command.  On 
hearing  this,  Welch  and  Cooper  left 
the  pumps.  Wylie  ordered  them 
back.  They  refused,  and  coolly 
lighted  their  pipes.  A  violent  alter- 
cation took  place,  which  was  brought 
to  a  close  by  Welch. 

"  It  is  no  use  pumping  the  ship," 
said  he.  "  She  is  doomed.  D'  ye 
think  we  are  blind,  my  mate  and  me  ? 
You  got  the  long-boat  ready  for  your- 
self before  ever  the  leak  was  sprung. 
Kow  get  the  cutter  ready  for  my  mate 
and  me." 

At  these  simple  words  Wylie  lost 
color,  and  walked  aft  without  a  word. 

Next  day  there  were  seven  feet 
water  in  the  hold,  and  quantities  of 
bread  coming  up  through  the  pumps. 

Wylie  ordered  tlie  men  from  the 
pumps  to  the  boats.  Tlie  joilyljoat 
was  provisioned  and  lowered.  While 
she  was  towing  astern,  the  cutter  was 
prepared,  and  the  ship  left  to  fill. 

All  this  time  Miss  Rolleston  had 
been  kept  in  the  dark,  not  as  to  the 
danger,  but  as  to  its  extent.  Great 
was  her  surprise  when  Mr.  Hazel  en- 
tered her  cabin,  and  cast  an  ineffable 
look  of  pity  on  her. 

She  looked  up  surprised  and  then 
angry.  "  How  dare  you  ? "  she  be- 
gan. 

He  waved  his  hand  in  a  sorrowful 
but  commanding  way.  "  0,  this  is 
no  time  for  prejudice  or  temper.  The 
ship  is  sinking  :  we  are  going  into 
the  boats.  Pray  make  preparations. 
Here  is  a  list  I  have  written  of  the 
things  you  ought  to  take  :  we  may  be 
weeks  at  sea  in  an  open  boat." 

Then,  seeing  her  (liimfoundcred,  he 
caught  up  her  carpet-bag,  and  threw 
her  work-box  into  it  for  a  beginning. 
He  then  laid  hands  upon  some  f)f  iier 
preserved  meats,  and  marmalade,  and 
carried  them  off  to  his  own  cabin. 


His  mind  then  flew  back  to  his 
reading,  and  passed  in  rajiid  review 
all  the  wants  that  men  had  endured 
in  open  boats. 

He  got  hold  of  Welch,  and  told 
him  to  be  sure  and  sec  there  was 
plenty  of  spare  canvas  on  board,  and 
sailing  needles,  scissors,  etc. :  also 
three  bags  of  biscuit,  and,  above  all, 
a  cask  of  Avater. 

He  himself  ran  all  about  the  ship, 
including  the  mate's  cabin,  in  search 
of  certain  tools  he  thought  would  be 
wanted. 

Then  to  his  own  cabin,  to  fill  his 
carpet-bag. 

There  was  little  time  to  spare ;  the 
ship  was  low  in  the  water,  and  the 
men  abandoning  her.  He  flung  the 
things  into  his  bag,  fastened  and 
locked  it,  strapped  up  his  blankets 
for  her  use,  flung  on  his  pea-jacket, 
and  turned  the  handle  of  his  door  to 
run  out. 

The  door  did  not  open  ! 

He  pushed  it.     It  did  not  yield ! 

He  rushed  at  it.     It  was  fast! 

He  uttered  a  cry  of  rage,  and  flung 
himself  at  it. 

Horror !     It  was  immovable  ! 


CHAPTER  XL 

The  fearful,  the  sickening  truth 
hurst  on  him  in  all  its  awful  signifi- 
cance. 

Some  miscreant  or  madman  had 
locked  the  door,  and  so  fastened  him 
to  the  sinking  ship,  at  a  time  when, 
in  the  bustle,  tiie  alarm,  the  selfish- 
ness, all  would  be  apt  to  forget  him, 
and  leave  him  to  his  death. 

He  tried  the  door  in  every  way,  he 
hammered  at  it ;  he  shouted,  lie  raged, 
he  screamed.  In  vain.  Unfortunate- 
ly the  door  of  this  cabin  was  of  very 
nnnsual  strength  and  thickness. 

Then  he  took  up  one  of  those  great 
augers  he  liad  found  in  the  mate's 
cabin,  and  bored  a  hole  in  the  door ; 
through  this  hole  he  fired  his  pistol, 
and  then  screamed  for  help.     "  I  am 


FOUL  PLAY. 


57 


shut  up  in  the  cabin.  I  shall  be 
drowned.  0,  for  Clirist's  sake,  save 
me  !  save  me  !  "  and  a  cold  sweat  of 
terror  poured  down  his  whole  bod  v. 

What  is  that  ? 

The  soft  rustle  of  a  woman's  dress. 

O  how  lie  thanked  God  for  that 
music,  and  the  hope  it  gave  him  ! 

It  comes  towards  him ;  it  stops,  the 
key  is  turned,  the  dress  rustles  away, 
swift  as  a  winded  bird ;  he  dashes  at 
the  door ;  it  flics  open. 

Nobody  was  near.  He  recovered 
his  courage  in  part,  fetched  out  his 
bag  and  his  tools,  and  ran  across  to 
the  starboard  side.  There  he  found 
the  captain  lowering  Miss  Rolleston, 
with  due  care,  into  the  cutter,  and 
tiie  young  lady  crying ;  nok  at  being 
shipwrecked,  if  you  please,  but  at 
being  deserted  by  her  maid.  Jane 
Holt,  at  this  trying  moment,  had  de- 
serted her  mistress  for  her  husband. 
This  was  natural ;  but,  as  is  the  rule 
with  persons  of  that  class,  she  had 
done  this  in  the  silliest  and  cruellest 
way.  Had  she  given  half  an  hour's 
notice  of  her  intention,  Donovan 
might  have  been  on  board  the  cutter 
with  her  and  her  mistress.  But  no  ; 
being  a  liar  and  a  fool,  she  must  hide 
her  husband  to  the  last  moment,  and 
then  desert  her  mistress.  The  ca|> 
tain,  then,  was  comforting  Miss  Rol- 
leston, and  telling  her  she  should  have 
her  maid  with  her  eventually,  when 
Hazel  came.  He  handed  down  his  own 
bag,  and  tlirew  tiie  blankets  into  the 
stern-sheets.  Then  went  down  him- 
self, and  sat  on  the  midship-thwart. 

"  Shove  off,"  said  the  captain  ;  and 
they  fell  astern. 

But  Cooper,  with  a  boat-book, 
hooked  .on  to  the  long-boat ;  and  the 
dying  ship  towed  them  both. 

Five  minutes  more  elapsed,  and  the 
captain  did  not  come  down,  so  Wylie 
hailed  him. 

There  was  no  answer.  Hudson 
had  gone  into  the  mate's  cabin.  Wy- 
lie waited  a  minute,  then  hailed  again. 
"  Ily  !  on  deck  tliere  !  " 

"  Hullo  ! "  cried  the  captain,  at 
last. 


"  Why  did  n't  you  come  in  the  cut- 
ter 1  " 

The  captain  crossed  his  arms,  and 
leaned  over  the  stern. 

"  Don't  you  know  that  Hiram 
Hudson  is  always  the  last  to  leave 
a  sinking  ship  1  " 

"  Well,  you  are  the  last,"  said  Wy- 
lie. "  So  now  come  on  board  the 
long-boat  at  once.  I  dare  not  tow  in 
her  wake  much  longer,  to  be  sucked 
in  when  she  goes  down." 

"  Come  on  board  your  craft  and 
desert  my  own?"  said  Hudson,  dis- 
dainfully. "  Know  my  duty  to  m'  em- 
ployers better." 

These  words  alarmed  the  mate. 
"  Curse  it  all !  "  he  cried  ;  the  fool 
has  been  and  got  some  more  rum. 
Fifty  guineas  to  the  man  that  will 
shin  up  the  tow-rope,  and  throw  that 
madman  into  the  sea ;  then  we  can 
piclc  him  up.    He  swims  like  a  cork." 

A  sailor  instantly  darted  forward 
to  tlie  rope.  But,  unfortunately, 
Hudson  heard  this  proposal,  and  it 
enraged  him.  He  got  to  his  cutlass. 
Tlie  sailor  drew  the  boat  under  the 
ship's  stern,  but  the  drunken  skipper 
flourished  his  cutlass  furiously  over 
his  head.  "  Board  me !  ye  pirates  ! 
the  first  that  lays  a  finger  on  my  bul- 
warks, off  goes  his  hand  at  the 
Avrist."  Suiting  the  action  to  the 
word,  he  hacked  at  the  tow-rope  so 
vigorously  that  it  gave  way,  and  the 
boats  fell  astern. 

Helen  Rolleston  uttered  a  shriek  of 
dismay  and  pity.  "  O  save  him  !  " 
she  cried. 

"  Make  sail !  "  cried  Cooper  ;  and, 
in  a  few  seconds,  they  got  all  her 
canvas  set  upon  the  cutter. 

It  seemed  a  hopeless  chase  for  these 
shells  to  sail  after  that  dying  monster 
with  her  cloud  of  canvas  all  drawing, 
alow  and  aloft. 

"  But  it  did  not  prove  so.  The 
gentle  breeze  was  an  advantage  to 
light  craft,  and  the  d>'ing  Proserpine 
was  full  of  water,  and  could  only 
crawl. 

After  a  few  moments  of  great  anx- 
iety, the  boats  crept  up,  the  cutter  on 


58 


FOUL   PLAY. 


her  port,  and  the  long-boat  on  her 
starboard  quarter. 

VVylio  ran  forward,  and,  hailing 
Hudson,  implored  him,  in  the  friend- 
liest tones,  to  give  himself  a  chance. 
Then  tried  him  l)y  his  vanit_y,  "  Come, 
and  command  tlie  boats,  old  fellow. 
How  can  we  navigate  them  on  the 
Pacific,  without  you  i  " 

Hudson  was  now  leaning  over  the 
taffiail  utterly  drunk.  He  made  no 
reply  to  the  mate,  but  merely  waved 
his  cutlass  feebly  in  one  hand,  and  his 
bottle  in  the  other,  and  gurgled  out, 
"  Duty  to  m'  employers." 

Then  Cooper,  without  a  word, 
double-reefed  the  cutter's  mainsail, 
and  told  Welch  to  keep  as  close  to 
the  ship's  quarter  as  he  dai'e.  Wylie 
instinctively  did  the  same,  and  the 
three  craft  crawled  on  in  solemn  and 
deadly  silence,  for  nearly  twenty 
minutes. 

The  wounded  ship  seemed  to  re- 
ceive a  death-blow.  She  stopped 
dead,  and  shook. 

The  next  moment  she  pitched 
gently  forward,  and  her  bows  went 
under  the  water,  while  her  after-part 
rose  into  the  air,  and  revealed  to 
those  in  the  cutter  two  splintered 
holes  in  her  run,  just  below  the  water- 
line. 

The  next  moment  her  stern  settled 
down;  the  sea  yawned  horribly,  the 
great  waves  of  her  own  making 
rushed  over  her  upper  deck,  and  the 
lofty  masts  and  sails,  remaining  erect, 
weiit  down  with  sad  majesty  into  the 
deep :  and  nothing  remained  but  the 
bubbling  and  foaming  of  the  vora- 
cious water,  that  had  swallowed  up 
the  good  ship,  and  her  cargo,  and  her 
drunken  master. 

All  stood  up  in  the  boats,  ready  to 
save  him.  But  cither  his  cutlass  sunk 
him,  or  the  suction  of  so  great  a  body 
drew  him  down.  He  was  seen  no 
more  in  this  world. 

A  loud  sigh  broke  from  every  living 
bosom  that  witnessed  that  terrible 
catastrophe. 

It  was  beyond  words :  and  none 
were  uttered,  except  by  Cooper,  who 


spoke  so  seldom  ;  yet  now  three  words 
of  terrible  import  burst  from  him, 
and,  uttered  in  his  loud,  deep  voice, 
rang  like  the  sunk  ship's  knell  over 
the  still  bubbling  water, — 
"  Scuttled,  —  by  God  !  " 


CHAPTER  XII. 

"  Hold  your  tongue,"  said  Welch, 
with  an  oath. 

Mr.  Hazel  looked  at  Miss  Eolles- 
ton,  and  she  at  him.  It  was  a  mo- 
mentary glance,  and  her  eyes  sank 
directly,  and  filled  with  patient  tears. 

For  the  first  few  minutes  after  the 
Proserpine  went  down,  the  survivors 
sat  benumbed,  as  if  awaiting  their 
turn  to  be  ingulfed. 

They  seemed  so  little,  and  the  Pro- 
serpine so  big ;  yet  she  was  swallowed 
before  their  eyes,  like  a  crumb.  They 
lost,  for  a  few  moments,  all  idea  of 
esca])ing. 

But,  true  it  is,  that,  "while  there  's 
life  there  's  hope  "  :  and,  as  soon  as 
their  hearts  began  to  beat  again,  their 
eyes  roved  round  the  horizon,  and 
their  elastic  minds  recoiled  against 
despair. 

I'his  was  rendered  easier  by  the 
wonderful  beauty  of  the  weather. 
There  were  men  tiiere  who  had  got 
down  from  a  sinking  ship,  into  boats 
heaving  and  tossing  against  her  side 
in  a  gale  of  wind,  and  yet  been  saved  : 
and  here  all  was  calm  and  delightful. 
To  be  sure,  in  those  other  shipwrecks 
land  had  been  near,  and  their  greatest 
j)eril  was  over  when  once  the  boats 
got  clear  of  the  distressed  ship  with- 
out capsizing.  Here  was  no  imme- 
diate peril ;  but  certain  death  men- 
aced them,  at  an  uncertain  distance. 

Their  situation  was  briefly  this. 
Sliould  it  come  on  to  blow  a  gale, 
these  open  boats,  small  and  loaded, 
could  not  hope  to  live.  Therefore 
tiiey  iiad  two  chances  for  life,  and  no 
more  :  they  must  either  make  land,  — 
or  be  picked  up  at  sea,  —  before  the 
weather  changed. 


FOUL  PLAY. 


59 


Bat  how?  The  nearest  known 
land  was  tlic  group  of  islands  called 
Juan  Fernandez,  and  they  lay  some- 
where to  leeward ;  hut  distant  at 
least  nine  hundred  miles  ;  and,  should 
they  prefer  the  other  chance,  then 
they  must  heat  three  hundred  miles 
and  more  to  windward ;  for  Hudson 
underrating-  the  leak,  as  is  supposed, 
had  run  the  Proserpine  fully  that  dis- 
ttince  out  of  the  track  of  trade. 

Now  the  ocean  is  a  highway — in 
law :  but,  in  fact,  it  contains  a  few 
highways,  and  millions  of  byways ; 
and,  once  a  cockle-shell  gets  into 
those  byways,  small  indeed  is  its 
chance  of  being  seen  and  picked  up 
by  any  sea-going  vessel. 

Wylie,  who  was  leading,  lowered 
his  sail,  and  hesitated  between  the 
two  courses  we  have  indicated.  How- 
ever, on  the  cutter  coming  up  with 
him,  he  ordered  Cooper  to  keep  her 
head  northeast,  and  so  run  all  night. 
He  then  made  all  the  sail  he  could,  in 
tlie  same  direction,  and  soon  outsailed 
the  cutter.  When  the  sun  went  down, 
he  was  about  a  mile  ahead  of  her. 

Just  before  sunset,  Mr.  Hazel  made 
a  discovery  that  annoyed  him  very 
much.  He  found  that  Welch  iiad  put 
only  one  bag  of  biscuit,  a  ham,  a  keg 
of  spirit,  and  a  small  barrel  of  water, 
on  board  the  cutter. 

He  remonstrated  with  him  sharply. 
Welch  replied  that  it  was  all  right; 
the  cutter  being  small,  he  had  put  the 
rest  of  her  provisions  on  board  the 
long-boat. 

"On  board  the  long-boat ! "  said 
Hazel,  with  a  look  of  wonder.  "  You 
have  actually  made  our  lives  depend 
upon  that  scoundrel  Wylie  again. 
You  deserve  to  be  flung  into  the  sea. 
You  have  no  forethought  j'ourself: 
yet  you  will  not  be  guided  by  those 
that  have  it." 

Welch  hung  his  head  a  little  at 
these  reproaches.  However,  he  re- 
plied, rather  sullenly,  that  it  was  only 
for  one  night ;  they  could  signal  the 
long-boat  in  the  morning,  and  get  the 
other  bags,  and  the  cask,  out  of  her. 
But  Mr.   Hazel  was  not  to   be   ap- 


peased. "  The  morning !  Wliy,  she 
sails  three  feet  to  our  two.  How  do 
you  know  he  won't  run  away  from 
us  ?  I  never  expect  to  get  within  ten 
miles  of  him  again.  We  know  him  ; 
and  he  knows  we  know  him." 

Cooper  got  up,  and  patted  Mr. 
Hazel  on  the  shoulder,  soothingly. 
"Boat-hook  aft,"  said  he  to  Welch. 

He  then,  by  an  ingenious  use  of  the 
boat-hook  and  some  of  the  spare 
canvas,  contrived  to  set  out  a  stud- 
ding-sail on  the  other  side  of  the 
mast. 

Hazel  thanked  him  warmly.  "But 
0  Cooper  !  Cooper !  "  said  he,  "  I  'd 
give  all  1  have  in  the  world  if  that 
bread  and  water  were  on  board  the 
cutter  instead  of  the  long-boat." 

The  cutter  had  now  two  wings,  in- 
stead of  one  ;  the  water  bubbling  loud 
under  her  bows  marked  her  increased 
speed ;  and  all  fear  of  being  greatly 
outsailed  by  her  consort  began  to  sub- 
side. 

A  slight  sea-fret  came  on,  and  ob- 
scured the  sea  in  part ;  but  they  had 
a  good  lantern  and  compass,  and 
steered  the  course  exactly,  all  night, 
according  to  Wylie's  orders,  changing 
the  helmsman  every  four  hours. 

Mr.  Hazel,  without  a  word,  put  a 
rug  round  Miss  Eollcston's  shoulders, 
and  another  round  her  feet. 

"  0,  not  both,  sir,  please,"  said 
she. 

"  Am  I  to  be  disobeyed  by  every- 
body ■?  "  said  he. 

Then  she  submitted  in  silence,  and 
in  a  certain  obsequious  way  that  was 
quite  new,  and  well  calculated  to  dis- 
arm anger. 

Sooner  or  later,  all  slejjt,  except 
the  helmsman. 

At  daybreak,  Mr.  Hazel  was 
wakened  by  a  loud  hail  from  a  man 
in  the  bows. 

All  the  sleepers  started  up. 

"  Long-boat  not  in  sight !  " 

It  was  too  true.  The  ocean  was 
blank :  not  a  sail,  large  or  small,  in 
sight. 

Many  voices  spoke  at  once. 


60 


FOUL  PLAY. 


"  He  has  carried  on  till  he  has  cap- 
sized Jier." 

"  He  has  given  us  the  slip." 

Unwilling  to  believe  so  great  a  ca- 
himity,  every  eye  peered  and  stared 
all  over  the  sea.  In  vain.  Not  a 
streak  that  could  be  a  boat's  hull,  not 
a  speck  that  could  be  a  sail. 

Tiic  little  cutter  was  alone  upon 
the  ocean.  Alone,  with  scarcely  two 
days'  provisions,  nine  hundred  miles 
from  land,  and  four  hundred  miles  to 
leeward  of  the  nearest  sea-road. 

Hazel,  seeing  his  worst  forebodings 
realized,  sat  down  in  moody,  bitter, 
and  boding  silence. 

Of  the  other  men  some  raged  and 
cursed.     Some  wept  aloud. 

The  lady,  more  patient,  put  her 
hands  together,  and  prayed  to  Him 
who  made  the  sea  and  all  that  therein 
is.  Yet  her  case  was  the  cruellest. 
For  she  was  by  nature  more  timid 
than  the  men,  yet  she  must  share 
their  desperate  peril.  And  then  to  be 
alone  with  all  these  men,  and  one  of 
them  had  told  her  he  loved  her,  and 
hated  the  man  she  was  betrothed  to  ! 
Shame  tortured  this  delicate  creature, 
as  well  as  fear.  Happy  for  her,  that 
of  late,  and  only  of  late,  she  had 
learned  to  pray  in  earnest.  "  Qui 
precari  novit,  premi  potest,  non  potest 
opprimi." 

It  was  now  a  race  dictwecn  starva- 
tion and  drowning,  and  either  way 
death  stared  them  in  the  face. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

The  long-boat  was,  at  this  moment, 
a  hundred  miles  to  windward  of  the 
cutter. 

The  fact  is,  that  Wylie,  the  evening 
before,  had  been  secretly  perplexed  as 
to  the  best  course.  He  had  decided 
to  run  for  the  island  ;  but  he  was  not 
easy  under  his  own  decision  ;  and,  at 
night,  he  got  more  and  more  discon- 
tented with  it.  Finally,  at  nine  o'clock, 
V.  M.,  he  suddenly  gave  the  order  to 
luff',  and  tack  :  and  by  daybreak  he 


was  very  near  the  place  where  tlie 
Proserpine  went  down :  whereas  the 
cutter,  having  run  before  the  wind 
all  night  was,  at  least,  a  hundred 
miles  to  leeward  of  him. 

Not  to  deceive  the  reader,  or  let 
him,  for  a  moment,  think  we  do  busi- 
ness in  monsters,  we  will  weigh  this 
act  of  Wylie's  justly. , 

It  was  just  a  piece  of  iron  egotism. 
He  preferred,  for  himself,  the  chance 
of  being  picked  up  by  a  vessel.  He 
thought  it  was  about  a  hair's  breadth 
better  than  running  for  an  island,  as 
to  whose  bearing  he  was  not  very 
clear,  after  all. 

But  he  was  not  sure  he  was  taking 
the  best  or  safest  course.  The  cutter 
might  be  saved,  after  all,  and  the  long- 
boat lost. 

Meantime  he  was  not  sorry  of 
an  excuse  to  shake  off  the  cutter. 
She  contained  one  man  at  least  who 
knew  he  had  scuttled  the  Proserpine ; 
and  therefore  it  was  all-imporiant  to 
him  to  get  to  London  before  her,  and 
receive  the  three  thousand  jiounds 
which  was  to  be  his  reward  for  that 
abominable  act. 

But  the  way  to  get  to  London  be- 
fore Mr.  Hazel,  or  else  to  the  bottom 
of  the  Pacific  before  him,  was  to  get 
back  into  the  sea-road,  at  all  hazards. 

He  was  not  aware  that  the  cutter's 
water  and  biscuit  were  on  board  his 
boat ;  nor  did  he  discover  this  till 
noon  next  day.  And,  on  making  this 
fearful  discovery,  he  showed  himself 
human  :  he  cried  out,  with  an  oath, 
"  What  have  I  done  ?  I  have  damned 
myself  to  all  eternity  !  " 

He  then  ordered  the  boat  to  he  put- 
bcibre  the  wind  again  ;  but  the  men 
scowled,  and  not  one  stirred  a  finger; 
and  he  saw  the  futility  of  this,  and 
(lid  not  persist  :  but  groaned  aloud  : 
and  then  sat,  staring  wildly  :  finally, 
like  a  true  sailor,  he  got  to  the  rum, 
and  stupefied  his  agitated  conscience 
for  a  time. 

While  he  lay  drunk  at  the  bottom 
of  the  boat,  his  sailors  carried  out  his 
last  instructions,  beating  southward 
right  in  the  wind's  eye. 


FOUL  PLAY. 


61 


Five  days  they  beat  to  windward, 
and  ne\'cr  saw  a  sail.  Tlicii  it  foil 
dead  calm  ;  and  so  icinained  for  three 
days  more. 

Tlie  men  began  to  suffer  greatly 
from  cramps,  owing  to  their  number 
and  confined  position.  During  the 
calm,  they  rowed  all  day,  and  with 
this,  and  a  light  westerly  breeze  that 
sprung  up,  they  got  into  the  sea-road 
again  :  but,  having  now  sailed  three 
hundred  and  fifty  miles  to  the  south- 
ward, they  found  a  great  change  in 
the  temperature :  the  nights  were  so 
cold  that  they  were  fain  to  huddle 
together,  to  keep  a  little  warmth  in 
their  bodies. 

On  the  fifteenth  day  of  their  voyage 
it  began  to  rain  and  blow,  and  then 
they  were  never  a  whole  minute  out 
of  peril.  Hand  forever  on  the  sheet, 
eye  on  the  waves,  to  ease  her  at  the 
right  moment :  and,  witli  all  this  care, 
the  spray  eternally  flying  half-way 
over  her  mast,  and  often  a  body  of 
water  making  a  clean  breach  over  her, 
and  the  men  bailing  night  and  day 
with  their  very  hats,  or  she  could  not 
have  lived  an  hour. 

At  last,  when  they  were  almost 
dead  with  wet,  cold,  fatigue,  and 
danger,  a  vessel  came  in  sight,  and 
crept  slowly  up,  about  two  miles  to 
windward  of  the  distressed  boat. 
With  the  heave  of  the  waters  they 
co'uld  see  little  more  than  her  sails  ; 
but  they  ran  up  a  bright  bandanna 
handkerchief  to  their  mast-head  ;  and 
the  ship  made  tiiem  out.  She  hoisted 
Dutch  colors,  and  —  continued  her 
course. 

Then  the  poor  abandoned  creatures 
wept,  and  raved,  and  cursed,  in  their 
frenzy,  glaring  after  that  cruel,  shame- 
less man,  who  could  do  such  an  act, 
yet  hoist  a  color,  and  show  of  what 
nation  he  was  the  native  —  and  the 
disgrace. 

But  one  of  them  said  not  a  word. 
This  was  Wylie.  He  sat  shivering, 
and  remembered  how  he  had  aban- 
doned the  cutter,  and  all  on  board. 
Loud  sighs  broke  from  his  laboring 
breast;    but  not  a  word.      Yet  one 


word  was  ever  present  to  his  mind ; 
and  seemed  written  in  fire  on  the 
night  of  clouds,  and  howled  in  his 
ears  by  the  wind, —  Retribution  ! 

And  now  came  a  dirty  night  —  to 
men  on  ships  ;  a  fearful  night  to  men 
in  boats.  The  sky  black,  the  sea  on 
fire  with  crested  billows,  thi^t  broke 
over  tliein  every  minute ;  their  light 
was  washed  out ;  their  provisions 
drenched  and  spoiled ;  bail  as  they 
would,  the  boat  was  always  filling. 
Up  to  their  knees  in  water;  cold  as 
ice,  blinded  with  spray,  deafened  with 
roaring  billows,  they  tossed  and  tum- 
bled in  a  fiery  foaming  hell  of  waters, 
and  still,  though  despairing,  clung  to 
their  lives,  and  bailed  with  their  hats 
unceasingly. 

Day  broke,  and  the  first  sight  it 
revealed  to  them  was  a  brig  to  wind- 
ward staggering  along,  and  pitching 
under  close-reefed  topsails. 

They  started  np,  and  waved  their 
hats,  and  cried  aloud.  But  the  wind 
carried  their  voices  to  leeward,  and 
the  brig  staggered  on. 

They  ran  up  their  little  signal  of 
distress;  but  still  the  ship  staggered 
on. 

Then  the  miserable  men  shook 
hands  all  round,  and  gave  themselves 
up  for  lost. 

But,  at  this  moment  the  brig  hoist- 
ed a  vivid  Hag  all  stripes  and  stars,  and 
altered  her  course  a  point  or  two. 

She  crossed  the  boat's  track  a  mile 
ahead,  and  her  people  looked  over  the 
bulwarks,  and  waved  their  hats  to  en- 
courage those  tossed  and  desperate 
men. 

Having  thus  given  them  the  weath- 
er-gage, the  brig  hove  to  for  them. 

They  ran  down  to  her,  and  crept 
under  her  lee  ;  down  came  ropes  to 
them,  held  by  friendly  hands,  and 
friendly  faces  shone  down  at  them : 
eager  grasps  seized  each  as  he  went 
up  the  ship's  side,  and  so,  in  a  very 
short  time,  they  sent  the  woman  up, 
and  the  rest  being  all  sailors,  and 
clever  as  cats,  they  were  safe  onboard 
the  whaling  brig  Maria,  Captain  Slo- 
cum,  of  Nantucket,  U.  S. 


62 


FOUL  FLAY. 


Tlicir  loc;,  compass,  and  instru- 
ments were  also  saved. 

The  boat  was  cast  adrift,  and  was 
soon  after  seen  bottom  upwards  on 
the  crest  of  a  wave. 

The  frood  Samaritan  in  command 
of  the  Maria  supplied  them  with  dry 
clothes  out  of  the  sliip's  stores,  {rood 
food,  and  medical  attendance,  which 
was  much  needed,  their  leps  and  feet 
bein<r  in  a  deplorable  condition,  and 
their  own  siu'geon  crippled. 

A  southeasterly  gale  induced  the 
American  skipper  to  give  Cape  Horn 
a  wide  bertli,  and  the  Maria  soon 
found  herself  three  degrees  south  of 
that  perilous  coast.  There  she  en- 
countered field-icc.  In  this  labyrinth 
they  dodged  and  worried  for  eighteen 
days,  until  a  sudden  chop  in  the  wind 
gave  the  captain  a  chance,  of  which 
lie  promptly  availed  himself;  and  in 
forty  hours  they  sighted  Terra  del 
Fuego. 

During  this  time,  the  rescued  crew, 
having  recovered  i'rom  the  effects  of 
their  hardsiiips,  fell  into  the  work  of 
the  ship,  and  took  their  turns  with  the 
Yankee  seamen.  The  brig  was  short- 
handed  ;  but  now  trimmed  and  han- 
dled by  a  full  crew  and  the  Proser- 
])ine's  men,  who  were  first-class  sea- 
men, and  worked  with  a  will,  because 
work  was  no  longer  a  duty,  she  ex- 
hibited a  speed  tlie  captain  had  al- 
most forgotten  was  in  the  craft.  Now 
speed  at  sea  means  economy,  for 
every  day  added  to  a  voyage  is  so 
much  oflf"  the  profits.  Slocum  was 
part  owner  of  the  vessel,  and  shrewil- 
ly  alive  to  the  value  of  the  seamen. 
When  about  three  hundred  miles 
south  of  Buenos  Ayres,  Wylie  pro- 
posed that  they  should  be  landed 
there,  from  whence  they  might  be 
transshipped  to  a  vessel  bound  for 
liome. 

This  was  objected  to  by  Slocum,  on 
the  ground  that,  by  such  a  deviation 
from  his  course,  he  must  lose  three 
days,  and  the  port-dues  at  Buenos 
Ayres  were  heavy. 

Wylie  undertook  that  the  house  of 
Wardlaw  and  Son  should  indemnify 


the  brig  for  all  expenses  and  losses 
incurred. 

Still  the  American  hesitated ;  at 
last  he  honestly  told  Wylie  he  wished 
to  keep  the  men  ;  he  liked  them,  they 
liked  him.  He  had  sounded  them, 
and  they  had  no  objection  to  join  his 
ship,  and  sign  articles  fur  a  three 
years'  whaling  voyage,  provided  they 
did  not  therel)y  forfeit  the  wages  to 
which  they  would  be  entitled  on 
reaching  Liverpool.  Wylie  went  for- 
ward and  asked  the  men  if  they  would 
take  service  with  the  Yankee  captain. 
All  but  three  expressed  their  desire  to 
do  so ;  these  three  had  families  in 
England,  and  refused.  The  mate 
gave  the  others  a  release,  and  an  or- 
der on  Wardlaw  and  Co.  for  their  full 
wages  for  the  voyage ;  then  they 
signed  articles  with  Captain  Slocum, 
and  entered  the  American  Mercantile 
Navy. 

Two  days  after  this  they  sighted 
the  high  lands  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Eio  de  la  Plata  at  10  r.  ai.,  and  lay  to 
for  a  pilot.  After  three  hours'  delay 
they  were  boarded  by  a  pilot-boat, 
and  then  began  to  creep  into  the  port. 
The  night  was  very  dark,  and  a  thin 
white  fog  lay  on  the  water. 

Wylie  was  sitting  on  the  taffrail, 
and  conversing  with  Slocuin,  when 
the  lookout  forward  sung  out,  "  Sail 
ho!" 

Another  voice  almost  simultaneotis- 
ly  yelled  out  of  the  fog,  "  Port  your 
helm ! " 

Suddenly  out  of  the  mist,  and  close 
aboard  the  Maria,  appeared  the  hull 
and  canvas  of  a  large  ship.  The  brig 
was  crossing  her  course,  and  her  great 
bowsprit  barely  missed  the  brig's 
mainsail.  It  stood  for  a  moment  over 
Wylie's  head.  He  looked  up,  and 
there  was  the  figure-head  of  the  ship 
looming  almost  within  his  reach.  It 
was  a  colossal  grceti  woman  ;  one  arm 
extended  grasped  a  golden  harj),  the 
other  was  pressed  to  her  head  in  the 
attitude  of  holding  l)ack  her  wild  and 
flowing  hair.  The  face  seemed  to 
glare  down  upon  the  two  men :  in 
another  moment  the  monster,  gliding 


FOUL  PLAY. 


G^ 


on,  just  missing  the  brig,  was  lost  in 
the  log. 

"  That  was  a  narrow  squeak,"  said 
Slocum. 

Wylie  made  no  answer,  but  looked 
into  the  darkness  after  the  vessel. 

He  had  recognized  her  figure-head. 

It  was  the  Shannon  ! 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

Before  the  Maria  sailed  again, 
with  the  men  who  formed  a  part  of 
Wylie's  crew,  he  made  them  sign  a 
declaration  before  the  Engliali  Consul 
at  Buenos  Ayres.  This  document  set 
forth  the  manner  in  which  the  Proser- 
pine foundered ;  it  was  artfully  made 
up  of  facts  enough  to  deceive  a  care- 
less listener ;  but,  when  Wylie  read  it 
over  to  them,  he  shirred  over  certain 
parts,  which  he  took  care,  also,  to  ex- 
press in  language  above  the  compre- 
hension of  such  men.  Of  course 
they  assented  eagerly  to  what  they 
did  not  understand,  and  signed  the 
statement  conscientiously. 

So  Wylie  and  his  three  men  were 
shipped  on  board  the  Boadicea,  bound 
for  Liverpool,  in  Old  England,  while 
the  others  sailed  with  Captain  Slocum 
for  Nantucket,  in  New  England. 

The  Boadicea  was  a  clipper  laden 
with  hides  and  a  miscellaneous  cargo. 
For  seventeen  days  she  flew  before  a 
southerly  gale,  being  on  her  best  sail- 
ing point,  and,  after  one  of  the  shortest 
passages  she  had  ever  mnde,  she  lay 
to,  outside  the  bar,  off  the  Mersey.  It 
wanted  but  one  hour  to  daylight,  the 
tide  was  flowing;  the  pilot  sprang 
aboard. 

"  What  do  you  draw  1 "  he  asked 
of  the  master. 

"  Fifteen  feet,  barely,"  was  the  re- 

piy- 

"  That  will  do,"  and  the  vessel  s 
head  was  laid  for  the  river. 

They  passed  a  large  bark,  with  her 
top-sails  backed. 

"  Ay,"  remarked  the  pilot,  "  she 
has  waited  since  the  half-ebb ;  there 


ain't  more  than  four  hours  in  the 
twenty-four  that  such  craft  as  that  can 
get  in." 

"  What  is  she  7  An  American 
liner  ? "  asked  Wylie,  peering  through 
tlie  gloom. 

"  No,"  said  the  pilot ;  "  she  's  an 
Australian  ship.  She  's  the  Shannon, 
from  Sydney." 

The  mate  started,  looked  at  the 
man,  then  at  the  vessel.  Twice  the 
Shannon  had  thus  met  him,  as  if  to 
satisfy  him  that  his  object  had  been 
attained,  and  each  time  she  seemed  to 
him  not  an  inanimate  thing,  but  a  si- 
lent accomplice.  A  chill  of  fear  struck 
through  the  man's  frame  as  he  looked 
at  her.  Yes,  there  she  lay,  and  in  her 
hold  were  safely  stowed  £  160,000  in 
gold,  marked  lead  and  copper. 

Wylie  had  no  luggage  nor  effects 
to  detain  him  on  board  ;  he  landed, 
and,  having  bestowed  his  three  com- 
panions in  a  sailors'  boarding-house, 
lie  was  hastening  to  the  shipping 
agents  of  Wardlaw  and  Son  to  an- 
nounce his  arrival  and  the  fate  of  the 
Proserpine.  He  had  reached  their 
offices  in  Water  Street  before  he 
recollected  that  it  was  barely  half  past 
five  o'clock,  and,  though  broad  day- 
light on  that  July  morning,  merchants' 
ofiices  are  not  open  at  that  hour. 
The  sight  of  the  Shannon  had  so 
bewildered  him  that  he  had  not 
noticed  that  the  shops  were  all  shut, 
the  streets  deserted.  Then  a  thought 
occurred  to  him,  —  why  not  he  a 
bearer  of  his  own  news  1  He  did  not 
require  to  turn  the  idea  twice  over, 
but  resolved,  for  many  reasons,  to 
adopt  it.  As  he  hurried  to  the  rail- 
way-station, he  tried  to  recollect  the 
hour  at  which  the  early  train  started ; 
but  his  confused  and  excited  mind 
refused  to  perform  the  function  of 
memory.     The  Shannon  dazed  him. 

At  the  railway-station  he  found  tliat 
a  train  had  started  at  4  a.  m.,  and 
there  was  nothing  until  7.30.  This 
check  sobered  him  a  little,  and  he 
went  back  to  the  docks  ;  he  walked 
out  to  the  fixrther  end  of  that  noble 
line  of  berths,  and  sat  down  on  the 


64 


FOUL  PLAY. 


verge  with  his  Icfrs  clangHnf;;  over  the 
water,  llo  waited  an  liuiir  ;  it  was 
six  o'clock  l)y  the  t;re;it  dial  at  St. 
Gcoiij;e's  Dock.  His  eyes  were  fixed 
on  the  Shannon,  which  was  moving 
slowly  up  the  river  ;  she  came  abreast 
to  wiiere  he  sat.  The  few  sails  re(]ui- 
site  to  give  her  steerage  fell.  Her 
anchor-chain  rattled,  and  she  swung 
round  with  the  tide.  The  clock 
struck  the  hall'-iiour ;  a  boat  left  the 
side  of  the  vessel  and  made  straigiit 
for  the  steps  near  where  he  was  seated. 
A  tall,  noble-looking  man  sat  in  the 
stern-sheets  beside  tlie  coxswain  ;  he 
was  put  ashore,  and,  after  exchanging 
a  few  words  witli  the  boat's  crew,  he 
mounted  the  steps  which  led  him 
to  Wy lie's  side,  followed  by  one  of 
the  sailors,  who  carried  a  portman- 
teau. 

He  stood  for  a  single  moment  on 
the  quay,  and  stamjicd  his  foot  on  the 
broad  stones  ;  then,  iicaving  a  deep 
siirh  of  satisfaction,  he  murmured, 
"Thank  God!" 

He  turned  towards  "VYylie. 

"  Can  you  tell  me,  my  man,  at 
what  hour  the  first  train  starts  for 
London  1  " 

"  There  is  a  slow  train  at  7.30  and 
an  express  at  9." 

"  The  ex])ress  will  serve  me,  and 
give  me  time  for  breaki'ast  at  the 
Adeli)hi.  Thank  you ;  good  morn- 
ing"; and  the  gentleman  passed  on, 
followed  by  the  sailor. 

Wyiie  looked  after  him  ;  he  noted 
that  erect  military  carriage  and  crisp, 
gray  hair  and  thick  white  mustache  ; 
he  had  a  vague  idea  that  he  had  seen 
that  face  before,  and  the  memory 
troubled  him. 

At  7.30  Wylie  started  for  London  ; 
the  military  man  followed  him  in  tiie 
express  at  9,  and  caught  him  up  at 
Rugby;  together  they  arrived  at  the 
station  at  Euston  Squaie  ;  it  was  a 
quarter  to  three.  Wylie  hailed  a  cab, 
but,  before  he  could  struggle  through 
tlie  crowd  to  reach  it,  a  railway  jiorter 
threw  a  portmanteau  on  its  roof,  and 
his  military  acquaintance  took  posses- 
sion of  it. 


"  All  right,"  said  the  porter, 
"  What  address,  sir?  " 

Wylie  did  not  hear  what  the  gentle- 
man said,  but  the  porter  shouted  it  to 
the  cabm^in,  and  then  he  did  hear  it. 

"  No.  —  Russell  Square." 

It  was  the  house  of  Arthur  "Ward- 
law  ! 

Wylie  took  off  his  hat,  rubbed  his 
frowzy  hair,  and  gaped  after  the  cab. 

He  entered  another  cab,  and  told 
the  driver  to  go  to  "No.  —  Fen- 
ehurch  Street." 

It  was  the  office  of  Wardlaw  and 
Son. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Our  scene  now  changes  from  the 
wild  ocean  and  its  perils  to  a  snug 
room  in  Fenciiurch  Street,  tlie  in- 
ner office  of  Waidlaw  and  Sou  :  a 
large  apartment,  panelled  witli  fine 
old  mellow  Spanish  oak ;  and  all  the 
furniture  in  keejiing;  the  carpet,  a 
thick  Axminster  of  sober  colors  ;  the 
chairs,  of  oak  and  morocco,  very  sub- 
stantial ;  a  large  office-table,  with 
oaken  legs  like  very  columns,  sub- 
stantial ;  two  Milner  safes  ;  a  globe  of 
unusual  size,  with  a  handsome  tent 
over  it,  made  of  roan  leather,  figured ; 
the  walls  hung  with  long  oak  boxes, 
about  eight  incites  broad,  containing 
rolled  maps  of  high  quality  and  great 
ilimensions  ;  to  consult  which,  oaken 
sceptres  tipped  with  brass  hooks  stood 
ready  :  with  these,  the  great  maps  could 
be  drawn  down  and  inspected  ;  and, 
on  being  released,  flew  up  into  their 
wooden  ijoxes  again.  Besides  these 
were  hung  up  a  few  drawings,  repre- 
senling  outlines,  and  inner  sections,  of 
vessels :  and,  on  a  smaller  table,  lay 
models,  almanacs,  etc.  The  great 
office-table  was  covered  with  writing 
materials  and  papers,  ail  but  a  square 
sjiace  enclosed  with  a  little  silver  rail, 
and  inside  that  sjjace  lay  a  purple 
morocco  cnse  about  ten  inches  square  ; 
.it  was  locked,  and  cont:iined  an  ex- 
quisite i^ortrait  of  Helen  RoUeston. 

This  apartment  was  so  situated,  and 


FOUL  PLAY. 


65 


the  frames  of  the  plate-f^lass  windows 
so  well  made  and  substantial,  that,  let 
a  storm  blow  a  thousand  ships  ashore, 
it  could  not  be  felt,  nor  heard,  in 
Wardlaw's  inner  otfiee. 

But  appearances  are  deceitful;  and 
who  can  wall  out  a  sea  of  troubles, 
and  the  tempests  of  the  mind  ■? 

The  inmate  of  that  office  was  bat- 
tling for  his  commercial  existence, 
nnder  accumulated  difficulties  and 
dangers.  Like  those  who  sailed  the 
Proserpine's  long-boat,  upon  that 
dirty  night,  which  so  nearly  swamped 
her,  his  eye  had  now  to  be  on  every 
wave,  and  the  sheet  forever  in  his 
hand. 

His  measures  had  been  ably  taken ; 
but,  as  will  happen  when  clever  men 
are  driven  into  a  corner,  he  had 
backed  events  rather  too  freely  against 
time  ;  had  allowed  too  slight  a  margin 
for  unforeseen  delays.  For  instance, 
he  had  averaged  the  Shannon's  pre- 
vious performances,  and  had  calculat- 
ed on  her  arrival  too  nicely.  She 
M-as  a  fortnight  overdue,  and  that  de- 
lay brought  peril. 

He  had  also  counted  upon  getting 
news  of  the  Proserpine.  But  not  a 
word  had  reached  Lloyd's  as  yet. 

At  this  very  crisis  came  the  panic 
of  '66.  Overend  and  Gurney  broke  ; 
and  Wardlaw's  experience  led  him  to 
fear  that,  sooner  or  later,  there  would 
be  a  run  on  every  bank  in  London. 
Now  he  had  borrowed  £  80,000  at  one 
bank,  and  Ji 35,000  at  another:  and, 
without  his  ships,  could  not  possibly 
pay  a  quarter  of  the  money.  If  the 
banks  in  question  M'ere  run  upon,  and 
obliged  to  call  in  all  their  resources, 
his  credit  must  go;  and  this,  in  his 
precarious  position,  was  ruin. 

He  had  concealed  his  whole  condi- 
tion from  his  father,  by  false  book- 
keeping. Indeed,  he  had  only  two 
confidants  in  the  world  ;  poor  old 
Michael  Penfold,  and  Helen  Rolles- 
ton's  portrait ;  and  even  to  these  two 
he  made  half  confidences.  He  dared 
not  tell  cither  of  them  all  he  had 
done,  and  all  he  was  going  to  do. 

His  redeeming  feature  was  as  bright 


as  ever.  He  still  loved  Helen  Rolles- 
ton  with  a  chaste,  constant,  and 
ardent  affection  that  did  him  honor. 
He  loved  money  too  well  :  but  he 
loved  Helen  better.  In  all  his  trou- 
bles and  worries,  it  was  his  one  con- 
solation to  unlock  her  portrait,  and 
gaze  on  it,  and  purify  his  soul  for  a 
few  minutes.  Sometimes  he  would 
apologize  to  it  for  an  act  of  doubtful 
morality.  "  How  can  I  risk  the  loss 
of  you  ?  "  was  his  favorite  excuse. 
No  :  he  must  have  credit.  Ho  must 
have  money.  She  must  not  suffer 
by  his  past  imprudences.  They  must 
be  repaired  at  any  cost  —  for  her 
sake. 

It  was  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning  : 
Mr.  Penfold  was  sorting  the  letters 
for  his  employer,  when  a  buxom 
young  woman  rushed  into  the  outer 
office,  crying,  "  0  Mr.  Penfold  !  "  and 
sank  into  a  chair,  breathless. 

"  Dear  heart !  what  is  the  matter 
now  ?  "  said  the  old  gentleman. 

"  I  have  had  a  dream,  sir :  I 
dreamed  I  saw  Joe  Wylie  out  on  the 
seas,  in  a  boat ;  and  the  wind  it  was 
a  blowing  and  the  sea  a  roaring  to 
that  degree  as  Joe  looked  at  me,  and 
says  he,  'Praj-  for  me,  Nancy  Rouse.' 
So  I  says,  '  O  dear,  Joe,  what  is  the 
matter  '{  and  wiiat  ever  is  become  of 
the  Proserpine  "? ' 

"  '  Gone  to  Hell ! '  says  he  :  which 
he  knows  I  object  to  foul  language. 
'  Gone  —  there  — '  says  he,  '  and  1  am 
sailing  iu  her  wake.  0  pray  for  me, 
Nancy  Rouse  ! '  With  that,  I  tries 
to  pray  in  my  dream,  and  screams  in- 
stead, and  wakes  myself  0  Mr. 
Penfold,  do  tell  me,  have  you  got  any 
news  of  the  Proserpine  this  morn- 
ing ? " 

"  What  is  that  to  you  ?  "  inquired 
Arthur  Warlaw,  who  had  entered 
just  in  time  to  hear  this  last  query. 

"  What  is  it  to  me  !  "  cried  Nancy, 
firing  up  ;  "  it  is  more  to  me,  perhaps, 
than  it  is  to  you,  for  that  matter." 

Penfold  explained,  timidly,  "  Sir, 
Mrs.  Rouse  is  my  landlady." 

"  Which  I  have  never  been  to 
church  with  any  man  yet  of  the  name 


G6 


FOUL  PLAY. 


of  Rouse,  leastways,  not  in  my  wak- 
ing hours,"  cdyed  in  the  lady. 

"  Miis  liouse,  I  should  say,"  said 
Pcnfold,  apolo^'izing.  "  I  beg  pardon, 
but  I  thought  Mrs.  miglit  sound  bet- 
ter iu  a  landlady.  Please,  sir,  Mr. 
Wylie,  the  mate  of  the  Proserpine, 
is  her  —  her  —  sweetheart." 

"  Not  he.  Leastways,  he  is  only 
on  trial,  after  a  manner." 

"Of  course,  sir — only  after  a 
manner,"  added  Penfold,  sadly  per- 
plexed. "  Miss  Rouse  is  incapable 
of  anything  else.  But,  if  you  j)leasc 
m'm,  1  don't  presume  to  know  the 
exact  relation " ;  and  then  with 
great  reserve,  "  but  you  know  you 
are  anxious  about  him." 

Miss  House  snitfed,  and  threw  her 
nose  in  the  air,  —  as  if  to  throw  a 
doubt  even  on  that  view  of  the  mat- 
ter. 

"  Well,  madam,"  says  Wardlaw, 
"  I  am  sorry  to  say  I  can  give  you  no 
information.  I  share  your  anxiety, 
for  I  have  got  £160,000  of  gold  in  the 
ship.  You  might  inquire  at  Lloyd's. 
Direct  her  there,  Mr.  Pcnfold,  and 
brin;r  nie  my  letters." 

With  this  he  entered  his  inner  of- 
fice, sat  down,  took  out  a  golden  key, 
opened  the  portrait  of  Helen,  gazed 
at  it,  kissed  it,  uttered  a  deep  sigh,  and 
prepared  to  face  the  troubles  of  the  day. 

Penfold  brouglit  in  a  leathern  case, 
like  an  enormous  bill-book  :  it  had 
thirty  vertical  compartments  :  and  the 
names  of  various  cities  and  seaports, 
with  which  Wardlaw  and  Son  did 
business,  were  printed  in  gold  letters 
on  some  of  tiiese  comi)artments  ;  on 
others,  the  names  of  persons  ;  and  on 
two  compartments,  the  word  "  Mis- 
cellaneous." Michael  brought  this 
maciiine  in,  filled  with  a  correspond- 
ence enough  to  break  a  man's  heart 
to  look  at. 

This  was  one  of  the  consequences 
of  Wardlaw's  position.  He  durst  not 
let  his  correspondence  be  read,  and 
filtered,  in  the  outer  office  :  he  opened 
the  whole  mass  ;  sent  some  back  into 
the  outer  oflicc  :  then  touched  a  hand- 
bell, and  a  man  emerged  from   the 


small  apartment  adjoining  his  own. 
This  was  Mr,  Atkins,  his  short-hand 
writer.  He  dictated  to  this  man  some 
twenty  letters,  wiiieli  were  taken  down 
in  short-hand  ;  the  man  retired  to  copy 
tliem,  and  write  them  out  in  duplicate 
from  his  own  notes,  and  this  reduced 
the  number  to  seven  :  these  Wardlaw 
sat  down  to  write  himself,  and  lock 
up  the  copies. 

While  he  was  writing  them,  he  re- 
ceived a  visitor  or  two,  whom  he  de- 
spatched as  quickly  as  his  letters. 

He  was  writing  his  last  letter,  when 
he  heard  in  the  outer  office  a  voice  he 
thought  he  knew.  He  got  up  and  lis- 
tened. It  was  so.  Of  all  the  voices 
in  the  city,  this  was  the  one  it  most 
dismayed  him  to  hear  in  his  office  at 
the  present  crisis. 

He  listened  on,  and  satisfied  himself 
that  a  fatal  blow  was  coming.  He 
then  walked  quietly  to  his  table,  seat- 
ed himself,  and  prepared  to  receive 
the  stroke  with  external  composure. 

Penfold  announced,  "  j\Ir.  Burten- 
shaw." 

"  Show  him  in,"  said  Wardlaw, 
quietly. 

Mr.  Burtenshaw,  one  of  the  mana- 
gers of  Morland's  bank,  came  in,  and 
Wardlaw  motioned  him  courteously 
to  a  chair,  while  he  finished  his  letter, 
which  took  only  a  few  moments. 

While  he  was  sealing  it,  he  half 
turned  to  his  visitor,  and  said,  "  No 
bad  news  1  Morland's  is  safe  of 
course." 

"  Well,"  said  Burtenshaw,  "  there 
is  a  run  upon  our  bank, —  a  severe 
one.  We  could  not  hope  to  escape 
the  effects  of  the  panic." 

He  then,  after  an  uneasj'  pause,  and 
with  apparent  reluctance,  added,  "1 
am  requested  by  the  other  directors  to 
assure  you  it  is  their  present  extremity 
alone,  that  —  In  short,  we  are  really 
compelled  to  beg  you  to  repay  the 
amount  advanced  to  you  by  the 
bank." 

Wardlaw  showed  no  alarm,  but 
great  surprise.  This  was  clever;  for 
he  felt  great  alarm,  and  no  surprise. 

"  The  £  81,000,"  said  he.     "  Why, 


FOUL   PLAY. 


67 


that  advance  was  upon  the  freight  of 
the  Proser[)ine.  Forty-five  thousand 
ounces  of  gold.  She  ouglit  to  be  here 
by  this  time.  She  is  in  tiie  Channel 
at  this  moment,  no  doubt." 

"Excuse  me;  she  is  overdue,  and 
the  underwriters  uneasy.  I  have  made 
inquiries." 

"  At  any  rate,  she  is  fully  insured, 
and  you  hold  the  policies.  Besides, 
the  name  of  WardUiw  on  your  books 
should  stand  for  bullion." 

Burtenshaw  shook  his  head. 
"  Names  are  at  a  discount  to-day,  sir. 
We  can't  pay  you  down  on  the  coun- 
ter. Why,  our  depositors  look  cross 
at  Bank  of  England  notes." 

To  an  inquiry,  half  ironical,  wheth- 
er the  managers  really  exj)ected  him 
to  find  £  81,000  cash,  at  a  few  hours' 
notice,  Burtenshaw  replied,  sorrow- 
fully, that  they  felt  for  his  difhculty 
whilst  deploring  their  own  ;  but  that, 
after  all,  it  was  a  debt :  and,  in  short, 
if  he  could  find  no  means  of  pay- 
ing it,  they  must  suspend  payment 
for  a  time,  and  issue  a  statement  — 
and  — 

He  hesitated  to  complete  his  sen- 
tence, and  Wardlaw  did  it  for  him. 

"  And  ascribe  your  suspension  to 
my  inability  to  refund  this  advance  1 " 
said  he,  bitterly. 

"  I  am  afraid  that  is  the  construc- 
tion it  will  bear." 

Wardlaw  rose,  to  intimate  he  had 
no  more  to  say. 

Burtenshaw,  however,  was  not  dis- 
posed to  go  without  some  clear  under- 
standing. "  May  I  say  we  shall  hear 
from  you,  sir  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

And  so  they  wished  each  other  good 
morning ;  and  Wardlaw  sank  into  his 
chair. 

In  that  quiet  dialogue,  ruin  had 
been  inflicted  and  received  without 
any  apparent  agitation ;  ay,  and  worse 
than  ruin,  — exposure. 

Morland's  suspension,  on  account 
of  money  lost  by  Wardlaw  and  Son, 
would  at  once  bring  old  Wardlaw  to 
London,  and  the  affairs  of  the  firm 
would  be  investigated,  and  the  son's 


false  system  of  book-keeping  he  dis- 
covered. 

He  sat  stupefied  awhile,  then  put 
on  his  hat,  and  rushed  to  his  solicitor ; 
on  the  way,  he  fell  in  with  a  great 
talker,  who  told  him  there  was  a  ru- 
mor the  Shannon  was  lost  in  the  Pa- 
cific. 

At  this  he  nearly  fainted  in  the 
street;  and  his  friend  took  him  back 
to  his  office  in  a  deplorable  condition. 
All  this  time  he  had  been  feigning 
anxiety  about  the  Proserpine,  and 
concealing  his  real  anxiety  about  the 
Shannon.  To  do  him  justice,  he  lost 
sight  of  everything  in  the  world  now 
but  Helen.  He  sent  old  Penfield  in 
hot  haste  to  Lloyd's,  to  inquire  for 
news  of  the  ship ;  and  then  he  sat 
down  sick  at  heart ;  and  all  he  could 
do  now  was  to  open  her  portrait,  and 
gaze  at  it  through  eyes  blinded  wiih 
tears.  Even  a  vague  rumor,  which 
he  hoped  might  be  false,  had  driven 
all  his  commercial  manccuvres  out  of 
him,  and  made  all  other-  calamities 
seem  small. 

And  so  they  all  are  small,  compared 
with  the  death  of  the  creature  we  love. 

AVhile  he  sat  thus,  in  a  stupor  of 
fear  and  grief,  he  heard  a  well-known 
voice  in  the  outer  office ;  and,  next 
after  Burtenshaw's,  it  was  the  one 
that  caused  him  the  most  apprehen- 
sion.    It  was  his  father's. 

Wardlaw  senior  rarely  visited  the 
office  now ;  and  this  was  not  his  hour. 
So  Arthur  knew  something  extraor- 
dinary had  brought  him  uj)  to  town. 
And  he  could  not  doubt  that  it  was 
the  panic,  and  that  he  had  been  to 
Morland's,  or  would  go  there  in 
course  of  the  day ;  but,  indeed,  it 
was  more  probable  that  he  had  al- 
read}^  heard  something,  and  was  come 
to  investigate. 

Wardlaw  senior  entered  the  room. 

"  Good  morning,  Arthur,"  said  he. 
"  I  've  got  good  news  for  you." 

Arthur  was  quite  startled  by  an  an- 
nouncement that  accorded  so  little 
with  his  expectations. 

"  Good  news  —  for  me  ?  "  said  he, 
in  a  faint,  incredulous  tone. 


G8 


rOUL  PLAY. 


"  Ay,  glorious  news  !  Have  n't  vou 
been  anxions  about  tlie  Shannon  ?  I 
have ;  more  anxious  tlian  I  would 
own." 

Arthur  started  up.  "  The  Shannon  ! 
God  bless  you,  father." 

"  She  lies  at  anchor  in  the  Mersey," 
roared  the  old  man,  with  all  a  father's 
])ride  at  bringing  such  good  news. 
"  Why,  the  Kullcstons  will  be  in  Lon- 
don at  2.15.  See,  here  is  his  tele- 
gram." 

At  this  moment  in  ran  Pcnfold,  to 
tell  them  that  the  Shannon  was  up  at 
Lloyd's,  had  anchored  off  Liverpool 
last  night. 

There  was  hearty  shaking  of  liands, 
and  Arthur  Ward  law  was  the  hap- 
])iest  man  iu  London  —  for  a  little 
while. 

"  Got  the  telegram  at  Elm-trees, 
this  morning,  and  came  up  by  the 
first  express,"  said  Wardlaw  sen- 
ior. 

The  telegram  was  from  Sir  Edward 
Eolleston.  "  Reached  Liverpool  last 
iwjht ;  will  be  ut  Enston,  two-Jifieen." 

"  Not  a  word  from  her  !  " 

"  O,  there  was  no  time  to  write  ; 
and  ladies  do  not  use  the  telegram." 
He  added,  slyly,  "  Perhaps  she  thought 
coming  in  person  would  do  as  well,  or 
better,  eh  ! " 

"But  why  docs  he  telegraph  you 
instead  of  me  ?  " 

"1  am  sure  I  don't  know.  What 
does  it  matter  1  Yes,  I  do  know.  It 
was  settled  months  ago  that  he  and 
Helen  should  come  to  me  at  Elm-trees, 
so  I  was  the  proper  person  to  tele- 
gra])h.  I  '11  go  and  meet  them  at  the 
station;  there  is  plenty  of  time.  But, 
I  say,  Arthur,  liave  you  seen  the  i)a- 
pers  7  Bartley  Brothers  obliged  to 
v.-iiid  up.  Maple  and  ("Jox,  of  Liver- 
pool, gone  ;  Atlantic  trarling.  'I  crry 
and  Brown  suspended.  International 
credit  gone.  Old  friends,  some  of 
these.  Ilopley  and  Timms,  railway 
contractors,  failed,  .sir  ;  liabilities,  sev- 
en hundred  thousand  pounds  and 
more." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Arthur,  pompous- 
ly :  "1866  will  long  be  remembered 


for  its  revelations  of  commercial  mo- 
rality." 

The  ohl  gentleman,  on  this,  aslied 
his  son,  with  excusable  vanity,  wheth- 
er he  iiad  done  ill  in  steering  clear  of 
speculation  ;  he  then  congratulated 
him  on  having  listened  to  good  advice, 
and  stuck  to  legitimate  business.  "  I 
must  say,  Arthur,"  added  he,  "your 
books  are  models  for  any  trading 
firm." 

Arthur  winced  in  secret  iinder  tliis 
praise,  for  it  occurred  to  him  that  in 
a  few  days  his  father  would  discover 
those  books  were  all  a  sham,  and  the 
accounts  a  fabrication. 

However,  the  unjdeasant  topic  was 
soon  interrupted,  and  effectual  ly,  too; 
for  Michael  looked  in,  with  an  air  of 
satisfaction  on  his  benevolent  counte- 
nance, and  said,  "  Gentlemen,  such  an 
arrival !  Here  is  Miss  Rouse's  sweet- 
heart, that  she  dreamed  was  drowned." 

"  What  is  the  man  to  me  ?  "  said 
Arthur,  peevishly.  He  did  not  recog- 
nize Wylie  under  that  title. 

"  La,  Mr.  Arthur !  why,  he  is  the 
mate  of  the  Proserpine,"  said  Pen- 
fold. 

"  What  !  Wylie  !  Joseph  Wy- 
lie ?  "  cried  Arthur,  in  a  sudden  ex- 
citement, that  contrasted  strangely 
with  his  previous  indifference. 

"  What  is  that  1  "  cried  Wardlaw 
senior ;  "  the  Proserpine ;  show  him 
in  at  once." 

Now  this  caused  Arthur  Wardlaw 
considerable  anxiety ;  for  ol)viou3 
reasons  he  did  not  want  his  father 
and  this  sailor  to  exchange  a  word 
together.  However,  that  was  inev- 
itable now:  the  door  ojicned,  and  the 
bronzed  face  and  sturdy  figure  of 
Wylie,  clad  in  a  rough  pea-jacket, 
came  slouching  in. 

Arthur  went  hastily  to  meet  him, 
and  gave  him  an  expressive  look  of 
warniuir,  even  while  he  welcomed  him 
ill  cordial  accents. 

"  Ghid  to  see  you  safe  home,"  said 
Warrilaw  senior. 

"  Thank  \q,  giiv'nor,"  said  Wylie. 
"  Had  a  s((ueak  for  it,  tliis  time." 

"  Where  is  your  ship  .'  " 


FOUL  PLAY, 


69 


Wylie  shook  his  head  sorrowfuUy. 
"Bottom  of  the  Pacific." 

"  Good  heavens  !  What !  is  site 
lost  ? " 

"That  she  is,  sir:  foundered  at 
sea,  1,2U0  miles  from  the  Horn,  and 
moi"e." 

"  And  the  freight  1  the  gold  1 "  put 
in  Arthur,  with  well-feigned  anxiety. 

"Not  an  ounce  saved,"  said  Wylie, 
disconsolately.  "  A  hundred  and 
sixty  thousand  pounds  gone  to  the 
bottom." 

"  Good  heavens  !  " 

"  Ye  see,  sir,"  said  Wylie,  "  the 
ship  encountered  one  gale  after 
another,  and  labored  a  good  deal, 
first  and  last;  and  we  all  say  her 
seams  must  have  opened ;  for  we 
never  could  find  the  leak  that  sunk 
her,"  and  he  cast  a  meaning  glance  at 
Arthur  Wardlaw. 

"  No  matter  how  it  happened,"  said 
the  old  merchant :  "  are  we  insured  to 
the  full ;  that  is  the  first  question  "?  " 

"  To  the  last  shilling." 

"  Well  done,  Arthur." 

"But  still  it  is  most  unlucky. 
Some  weeks  must  elapse  before  the 
insurances  can  be  realized,  and  a  por- 
tion of  the  gold  was  paid  for  in  bills  at 
short  date." 

"  The  rest  in  cash "?  " 

"  Cash  and  merchandise." 

"  Then  there  is  the  proper  margin. 
Draw  on  my  private  account,  at  the 
Bank  of  England," 

These  few  simple  words  showed  the 
struggling  young  merchant  a  way  out 
of  all  his  dilficultics. 

His  heart  leaped  so,  he  dared  not 
reply,  lest  he  should  excite  the  old 
gentleman's  suspicions. 

But  ere  he  could  Avell  draw  his 
breath  for  joy,  came  a  freezer. 

"  Mr.  Burtenshaw,  sir." 

"  Bid  him  wait,"  said  Arthur,  aloud, 
and  cast  a  look  of  great  anxiety  on 
Penfold,  which  the  poor  old  man,  with 
all  his  simplicity,  comprehended  well 
enough. 

"  Burtenshaw,  from  Morland's. 
What  docs  he  want  of  us  ? "  said 
Wardlaw  senior,  knitting  his  brows. 


Arthur  turned  cold  all  over.  "  Per- 
haps to  ask  me  not  to  draw  out  my 
balance.  It  is  less  than  usual:  but 
they  are  run  upon ;  and,  as  you  are 
good  enough  to  let  me  draw  on  you 
—  By  the  by,  perhaps  you  will  sign 
a  check  before  you  go  to  the  station." 

"  How  much  do  you  wanf?  " 

"  I  really  don't  know,  till  I  have 
consulted  Penfold :  the  gold  was  a 
large  and  advantageous  purchase, 
sir." 

"  No  doubt ;  no  doubt.  I  '11  give 
you  my  signature ;  and  you  can  fill 
in  the  amount." 

He  drew  a  check  in  favor  of  Arthur 
Wardlaw,  signed  it,  and  left  him  to 
fill  in  the  figures. 

He  then  looked  at  his  watch,  and 
remarked  they  would  barely  have 
time  to  get  to  the  station. 

"  Good  Heavens  !  "  cried  Arthur  ; 
"and  I  can't  go.  I  must  learn  the 
particulars  of  the  loss  of  the  Proser- 
pine, and  prepare  tlie  statement  at 
once  for  the  underwriters." 

"  Well,  never  mind.     Jean  go." 

"But  what  will  she  think  of  me? 
I  ought  to  be  the  first  to  welcome 
her." 

"  I  '11  make  your  excuses." 

"  No,  no  ;  say  nothing  :  after  all,  it 
was  you  who  received  the  telegram  : 
so  you  naturally  meet  her  ;  but  you 
Avili  bring  her  here,  father  :  you  won't 
whisk  my  darling  down  to  Elm-trees, 
till  you  have  blest  me  with  the  sight 
of  her." 

"  I  will  not  be  so  cruel,  fond  lover," 
said  old  Wardlaw,  laughing,  and  took 
up  his  hat  and  gloves  to  go. 

Arthur  went  to  the  door  with  him, 
in  great  anxiety,  lest  he  should  ques- 
tion Burtenshaw  :  but,  peering  into 
the  outer  office,  he  observed  Burten- 
shaw was  not  there.  Michael  had 
caught  his  employer's  anxious  look, 
and  conveyed  the  Banker  into  the 
small  room  where  the  short-hand 
writer  was  at  work.  But  Burten- 
shaw was  one  of  a  struggling  firm ; 
to  him  every  minute  was  an  hour  :  he 
had  sat,  fuming  with  impatience,  so 
long  as  he  heard  talking  in  the  inner 


70 


FOUL   PLAY. 


office  ;  and,  the  moment  it  ceased,  he 
took  the  liberty  of  coming  in  :  so  that 
he  opened  the  side  door  just  as 
Wardhiw  senior  was  passing  through 
the  centre  door. 

Instantly  Wardlaw  junior  whipped 
before  him,  to  hide  his  tigure  from  his 
retreating  father. 

Wylie  —  who  all  this  time  had  been 
sitting  silent,  looking  from  one  to  the 
other,  and  quietly  puzzling  out  the 
game,  as  well  as  he  could  —  observed 
this  movement,  and  grinned. 

As  foT  Artliur  Wardlaw,  he  saw 
his  father  safe  out,  then  gave  a  sigh 
of  i-elief,  and  walked  to  his  office 
table,  and  sat  down,  and  began  to  fill 
in  the  check. 

Burtenshaw  drew  near,  and  said, 
"I  am  instructed  to  say  that  fifty 
thousand  pounds  on  account  will  be 
accepted." 

Perhaps  if  this  proposal  had  been 
made  a  few  seconds  sooner,  the  in- 
genious Arthur  would  have  availed 
himself  of  it :  but,  as  it  was,  he  pre- 
ferred to  take  the  high  and  mighty 
tone.  "  I  decline  any  concession," 
said  he.  "  Mr.  Pcnfold,  take  this 
check  to  the  Bank  of  England.  £  81  ,- 
647  10s.  that  is  the  amount,  capital 
and  interest,  up  to  noon  this  day  : 
hand  the  sum  to  Mr.  Burtenshaw, 
taking  his  receipt,  or,  if  he  prefers  it, 
pay  it  across  liis  counter,  to  my 
credit.  That  will  perhaps  arrest  the 
run." 

Burtenshaw  stammered  out  his 
thanks. 

Wardlaw  cut  him  short.  "  Good 
morning,  sir,"  said  he.  "  I  have 
business  of  imjxjrtance.  Good  day," 
and  bowed  him  out. 

"  This  is  a  High-flier,"  thought 
Burtenshaw. 

Wardlaw  then  opened  the  side  door, 
and  called  his  short-hand  writer. 

"  Mr.  Atkins,  please  stej)  into  the 
outer  office,  and  don't  let  a  soul  come 
in  to  me.  Mind,  I  am  out  for  tiie 
day.  Except  to  Miss  Rolleston  and 
her  father." 

He  then  closed  all  the  doors,  and 
sunk  exhausted  into  a  chair,  mutter- 


ittg,  "  Thank  Heaven !  I  have  got 
rid  of  them  all  for  an  hour  or  two. 
Now,  Wylie." 

Wylie  seemed  in  no  hurry  to  enter 
upon  the  required  subject. 

Said  he,  evasively,  "  Why,  guv'nor, 
it  seems  to  me  you  are  among  the 
breakers  here  yourself." 

"  Nothing  of  the  sort,  if  you  have 
managed  your  work  cleverly.  Come, 
tell  me  all,  before  we  are  interrupted 
again." 

"  Tell  ye  all  about  it !  Why,  there's 
part  on 't  I  am  afraid  to  think  on; 
let  alone  talk  about  it." 

"  Spare  me  your  scruples,  and  give 
me  your  facts,"  said  Wardlaw,  coldly. 
"  First  of  all,  did  you  succeed  in  shift- 
ing the  bullion  as  agreed  ?  " 

The  sailor  appeared  relieved  by  this 
question. 

"  0,  that  is  all  right,"  said  he.  "  I 
got  the  bullion  safe  aboard  the  Shan- 
non, marked  for  lead." 

"And  the  lead  on  board  the  Pro- 
serpine ?  " 

"  Ay,  shipped  as  bullion." 

"  Without  suspicion  ?  " 

"  Not  quite." 

"  Great  Heaven  !     ^Y\\o  ?  " 

"  One  clerk  at  the  shipping  agent's 
scented  something  queer,  I  think. 
James  Seaton.  That  was  the  name  he 
went  hi/." 

"  Could  he  prove  anything  ?  " 

"  Nothing.  He  knew  nothing  for 
certain  ;  and  what  he  guessed  won't 
never  be  known  in  England  now." 
And  AVylie  fidgeted  in  his  chair. 

Notwithstanding  this  assurance 
Wardlaw  looked  grave,  and  took  a 
note  of  that  clerk's  name.  Then  he 
begged  Wylie  to  go  on.  "  Give  me 
all  the  details,"  said  he.  "  Leave  me 
to  judge  their  relative  value.  You 
scuttled  the  ship  ?  " 

"  Don't  say  that !  don't  say  that !  " 
cried  Wylie,  in  a  low  but  eager  voice. 
"  Stone  walls  have  ears."  Then 
rather  more  loudly  than  was  neces- 
sary, "  Ship  sprung  a  leak,  that  nei- 
ther the  captain,  nor  I,  nor  anybody 
could  find,  to  stop.  Me  and  my  men, 
we  all  think  her  seams  opened,  with 


FOUL  PLAY. 


71 


stress  of  weather."  Then,  lowering 
his  voice  again,  "  Try  and  see  it  as 
wc  do  ;  and  don't  you  ever  use  such  a 
word  as  tiiat  what  come  out  of  your 
hps  just  now.  We  pumped  her  hard  ; 
hut  't  warn'tno  use.  She  fiUetl,  and 
we  liad  to  talcc  to  the  hoats." 

"  Stop  a  moment.  Was  there  any 
suspicion  excited  ?  " 

"  Not  among  the  crew :  and,  sup- 
pose there  was,  I  could  talk  'em  all 
over,  or  buy  'em  all  over,  what  few  of 
'em  is  left.  I  've  got  'em  all  with  me 
in  one  house  :  and  they  are  all  square, 
don't  you  fear." 

"  Well,  but  you  said  '  among  the 
crew ' .'  Whom  else  can  we  have  to 
fear  ?  " 

"  Why,  nobody.  To  be  sure,  one 
of  the  passengers  was  down  on  me ; 
but  what  does  that  matter  now  ?  " 

"  It  matters  greatly,  —  it  matters 
terribly.     Who  was  this  passenger  ?  " 

"  He  called  himself  the  Reverend 
John  Hazel.  He  suspected  something 
or  other;  and  what  with  listening 
here,  and  watching  there,  he  judged 
the  ship  was  never  to  see  England, 
and  I  always  fancied  he  told  the  lady." 

"  What,"was  there  a  lady  there  ? " 

"  Ay,  worse  luck,  sir  ;  and  a  pretty 
girl  she  was :  coming  home  to  Eng- 
land to  die  of  consumption ;  so  our 
surgeon  told  me." 

"  Well,  never  mind  her.  The 
clergyman  !  This  fills  me  with  anx- 
iety. A  clerk  suspecting  us  at  Syd- 
ney, and  a  passenger  suspecting  us  in 
the  vessel.  There  are  two  witnesses 
against  us  already." 

"  No  ;  only  one." 

"  How  do  you  make  that  out  ?  " 

"  Why,  White's  clerk  and  the  par- 
son, they  was  one  man." 

Wardlaw  stared  in  utter  amaze- 
ment. 

"  Don't  ye  believe  me  ? "  said 
Wylie.  "  I  tell  ye  that  there  clerk 
boarded  us  under  an  alias.  He 
had  shaved  off  his  beard ;  but,  bless 
your  heart,  I  knew  him  directly." 

"  He  came  to  verify  his  suspi- 
cions," suggested  Wardlaw,  in  a  faint 
voice. 


"  Not  he.  He  came  for  love  of  the 
sick  girl,  and  nothing  else ;  and 
you  '11  never  see  either  him  or  her,  if 
that  is  any  comfort  to  you." 

"  Be  good  enough  to  conceal  noth- 
ing.    Facts  must  be  faced." 

"  That  is  too  true,  sir.  Well,  we 
abandoned  her,  and  took  to  the  boats. 
I  commanded  one." 

"  And  Hudson  the  other?  " 

"  Pludson !    No." 

"  Wh}',  how  was  that  ?  and  what 
has  become  of  him  ?  " 

"  What  has  become  of  Hudson  '\  " 
said  Wylie,  with  a  start.  "There's 
a  question  !  And  not  a  drop  to  wet 
my  lips,  and  warm  my  heart.  Is  this 
a  talc  to  tell  dry  ?  Can't  ye  spare  a 
drop  of  brandy  to  a  poor  devil  that 
has  earned  ye  £  150,000,  and  risked 
his  life,  and  wrecked  his  soul  to  do 
it?" 

Wardlaw  cast  a  glance  of  con- 
tempt on  him,  but  got  up  and  speed- 
ily put  a  bottle  of  old  brandy,  a 
tumbler,  and  a  caraffe  of  water  on 
the  table  before  him. 

Wylie  drank  a  wineglassful  neat, 
and  gave  a  sort  of  sigh  of  satisfaction. 
And  then  ensued  a  dialogue,  in 
which,  curiously  enough,  the  brave 
man  was  agitated,  and  the  timid  man 
was  cool  and  collected.  But  one 
reason  was,  the  latter  had  not  imagi- 
nation enough  to  realize  things  un- 
seen, though  he  had  caused  them. 

Wylie  told  him  how  Hudson  got 
to  the  bottle,  and  would  not  leave 
the  ship.  "  I  think  I  see  him  now, 
with  his  cutlass  in  one  hand,  and  his 
rum  bottle  in  the  other,  and  the 
waves  running  over  his  poor,  silly 
face,  as  she  went  down.  Poor  Hi- 
ram !  he  and  I  had  made  many  a 
trip  together,  before  we  took  to 
this." 

And  Wylie  shuddered,  and  took 
another  gulp  at  the  brandy. 

While  he  was  drinking  to  drown 
the  picture,  Wardlaw  was  calmly  re- 
flecting on  the  bare  fact.  "  Hum," 
said  he,  "we  must  use  that  circum- 
stance. I  '11  get  it  into  the  journals. 
Heroic  captain.       Went  down  with 


72 


FOUL  PLAY. 


the  ship.  Who  can  suspect  Hudson 
in  the' teeth  of  such  a  fact  ?  Now  pray 
go  on,  my  ^ot"!  Wylie.    The  boats  !  " 

"  Well,  sir,  I  had  the  surgeon,  and 
ten  men,  and  tlic  lady's  maid,  on 
board  the  long-boat ;  and  there  was 
the  parson,  the  sick  lady,  and  five 
sailors  aboard  tiie  cutter.  We  sailed 
together,  till  night,  steering  for  Juan 
Fernandez  ;  then  a  fog  came  on  and 
we  lost  sight  of  the  cutter,  and  I 
altered  my  mind  and  judged  it  best 
to  beat  to  win'ard,  and  get  into  the 
track  of  ships.  Which  we  did,  and 
were  nearly  swamped  in  a  sou'wester  ; 
but,  by  good  luck,  a  Yankee  whaler 
picked  us  up,  and  took  us  to  Buenos 
Ayres,  where  we  shipped  for  Eng- 
land, what  was  left  of  us,  only  four, 
besides  myself;  but  I  got  the  sig- 
natures of  the  others  to  my  tale  of 
the  wreck.  It  is  all  as  square  as  a 
die,  I  tell  vou." 

"  Well  done.  Well  done.  But, 
stop  !  the  other  boat,  witli  that  sham 
parson  on  board,  who  knows  all. 
She  will  be  picked  up,  too,  perhaps." 

"  There  is  no  chance  for  that.  She 
was  out  of  the  tracks  of  trade  ;  and, 
I'll  tell  ye  the  truth,  sir."  He 
poured  out  half  a  tumbler  of  brandy, 
and  drank  a  part  of  it ;  and,  now, 
for  the  first  time,  his  hand  trembled 
as  he  lifted  the  glass.  "  Some  fool 
had  put  the  main  of  her  provisions 
aboard  the  long-boat ;  that  is  what 
sticks  to  me,  and  won't  let  me  sleep. 
We  took  a  chance,  but  we  did  n't 
give  one.  I  think  I  told  you  there 
was  a  woman  aboard  the  cutter,  tliat 
sick  girl,  sir.  O,  but  it  was  hard 
lines  for  her,  poor  thing !  I  sec  her 
pale  and  cahn  ;  0  Lord,  so  pale  and 
calm  ;  every  night  of  my  life  ;  she 
kneeled  aboard  the  cutter  with  her 
white  hands  a  clasped  together,  pray- 
ing." 

"  Certainly,  it  is  all  very  shocking," 
said  AVardlaw ;  "but  then,  you  know, 
if  they  had  escaped,  they  would  liavc 
exposed  us.  Believe  me,  it  is  all  for 
the  best." 

Wylie  looked  at  him  with  wonder. 
"  Ay,"  said  he,  after  staring  at  him 


in  wonder ;  "  you  can  sit  here  at  your 
ease,  and  doom  a  ship  and  risk  her 
people's  lives :  but  if  you  had  to  do 
it,  and  see  it,  and  tlien  lie  awake 
thinking  of  it,  you  'd  wish  all  the  gold 
on  earth  had  been  iu  hell  before  you 
put  your  hand  to  such  a  piece  of 
work." 

Wardlaw  smiled  a  ghastly  smile. 
"In  short,"  said  he,  "you  don't  mean 
to  take  the  three  thousand  pounds  I 
pay  you  for  this  little  job." 

"  O  yes,  I  do ;  but  for  all  the  gold 
in  Victoria  I  would  n't  do  such  a  job 
again.  And  you  mark  ray  words, 
sir,  we  shall  get  the  money,  and  no- 
body will  ever  be  the  wiser."  Ward- 
law  rubbed  his  hands  complacently  : 
his  egotism,  coupled  with  his  want  of 
imagination,  nearly  blinded  him  to 
everything  but  the  pecuniary  feature 
of  the  business.  "  But,",  continued 
Wylie,  "  we  shall  never  thrive  on  it. 
AVe  have  sunk  a  good  ship,  and  we 
have  as  good  as  murdered  a  poor  dy- 
ing girl." 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  ye  fool !  " 
cried  Wardlaw,  losing  his  snng-frokl 
in  a  moment,  for  he  heard  somebody 
at  the  door. 

It  opened,  and  there  stood  a  mili- 
tary figure  in  a  travelling-cap,  —  Gen- 
eral RoUeston. 


CHAPTER  XVL 

As  some  eggs  have  actually  two 
yolks,  so  Arthur  Wnrdhiw  had  two 
iiearts;  and,  at  sight  of  Helen's  father, 
the  baser  one  ceased  to  beat  for  a 
while. 

He  ran  to  General  Rolleston,  shook 
him  warmly  by  the  hand,  and  wel- 
comed hini  to  England  with  sparkling 
eyes. 

It  is  pleasant  to  be  so  welcomed, 
and  the  stately  soldier  returned  his 
grasjj  in  kind. 

"Is  Helen  with  you,  sir?"  said 
Wardlaw,  making  a  movement  to  go 
to  the  door  :  for  he  thought  she  must 
be  outside  in  the  cab. 


FOUL  PLAY. 


73 


"  No,  she  is  not,"  said  General  Rol- 
leston. 

"  There,  now,"  said  Arthur,  "  that 
cruel  father  of  mine  has  broken  his 
promise,  and  carried  her  off  to  Elm- 
trees  !  " 

At  this  moment  Wardlaw  senior 
returned,  to  tell  Arthur  he  had  been 
just  too  late  to  meet  the  Rollestons. 
"  O,  here  he  is  !  "  said  he  ;  and  there 
were  fresh  greetings. 

"  Well,  but,"  said  Arthur,  "where 
is  Helen  !  " 

"  1  think  it  is  I  who  ought  to  ask 
that  question,"  said  RoUeston,  grave- 
ly. "  I  telegraphed  you  at  Elm-trees, 
thinking  of  course  she  would  come 
with  you  to  meet  me  at  the  station. 
It  docs  not  much  matter,  a  few  hours ; 
hut  her  not  coming  makes  me  uneasy, 
for  her  health  was  declining  when  she 
left  me.  How  is  my  child,  Mr.  Ward- 
law  '!     Pray  tell  me  the  truth." 

Both  the  Wardlaws  looked  at  one 
another,  and  at  General  Rolleston, 
and  the  elder  Wardlaw  said  there 
was  certainly  some  misunderstanding 
hei;e.  "  We  fully  believed  that  your 
daughter  was  coming  home  with  you 
in  tlie  Shannon." 

"  Come  home  with  me  ?  Why,  of 
course  not.  She  sailed  three  weeks 
before  me.  Good  Heavens  !  Has  she 
not  arrived  1  " 

"  No,"  replied  old  "Wardlaw,  "  we 
have  neither  seen  nor  iieard  of  her." 

"  Why,  what  ship  did  she  sail  in  ?  " 
said  Arthur. 

"  In  the  Proserpine." 


CHAPTER  XVn. 

Arthur  Wardlaw  fixed  on  the 
speaker  a  gaze  full  of  horror  ;  his  jaw 
fell  ;  a  livid  pallor  spread  over  his 
features  ;  he  echoed  in  a  hoarse  whis- 
per, "  The  Proserpine  !  "  and  turned 
his  scared  eyes  upon  Wylie,  who  was 
himself  leaning  against  the  wall,  his 
stalwart  frame  beghining  to  trem- 
ble. 

"  The  sick  girl,"  murmured  Wylie, 


and  a  cold  sweat  gathered  on  his 
brow. 

General  Rolleston  looked  from  one 
to  another  with  strange  misgivings, 
which  soon  deepened  into  a  sense  of 
some  terrible  calamity ;  for  now  a 
strong  convulsion  swelled  Arthur 
Wardlaw's  heart ;  his  face  worked 
fearfully ;  and,  with  a  sharp  and  sud- 
den cry,  he  fell  forward  on  the  table, 
and  his  father's  arm  alone  prevented 
him  from  sinking  like  a  dead  man  on 
the  floor.  Yet,  though  crushed  and 
helpless,  he  was  not  insensible ;  that; 
blessing  was  denied  him. 

General  Rolleston  implored  an  ex- 
planation. 

Wylie,  with  downcast  and  averted 
face,  began  to  stammer  a  few  discon- 
nected and  unintelligible  words  ;  but 
old  Wardlaw  silenced  him  and  said, 
with  much  feeling,  "  Let  none  but  a 
father  tell  him.  My  poor,  poor  friend, 
—  The  Proserpine  !  How  can  I  say 
iti" 

"  Lost  at  sea,"  groaned  Wylie. 

At  these  fatal  words  the  old  war- 
rior's countenance  grew  rigid ;  his 
large,  bony  hands  gripped  the  back 
of  the  chair  on  which  he  leaned,  and 
were  white  with  their  own  convulsive 
force ;  and  he  bowed  his  head  under 
the  blow,  without  one  word. 

His  was  an  agony  too  great  and 
mute  to  be  spoken  to  ;  and  there  was 
silence  in  the  room,  broken  only  by 
the  hysterical  moans  of  the  miserable 
plotter,  who  had  drawn  down  this 
calamity  on  his  own  head.  He  was 
in  no  state  to  be  left  alone ;  and  even 
the  bereaved  father  found  pity  in  his 
desolate  heart  for  one  Avho  loved  his 
lost  child  so  well  ;  and  the  two  old 
men  took  him  home  between  them,  in 
a  heljiless  and  pitiable  condition. 


CHAPTER  XVIIL 

But  this  utter  prostration  of  his 
confederate  began  to  alarm  Wylie, 
and  rouse  him  to  exertion.  Certainly, 
he  was   very   sorry  for  what  he  had 


74 


FOUL  PLAY. 


done,  and  would  have  undone  it  and 
forfeited  bis  £3,000  in  a  moment, 
if  he  could.  But,  as  he  could  not 
undo  the  crime,  he  was  all  the  more 
determined  to  reap  tlic  reward.  Why, 
that  £3,000,  for  au.i^ht  he  knew,  was 
the  price  of  his  soul ;  and  he  was  not 
the  man  to  let  his  soul  go  gratis. 

He  finished  the  rest  of  the  brandy, 
and  went  after  his  men,  to  keep  them 
true  to  him  by  promises ;  but  tlic 
next  day  he  came  to  the  olhce  in 
Fenchurch  Street,  and  asked  anx- 
iously for  Wardlaw.  Wardlaw  had 
not  arrived.  He  waited,  but  the  mer- 
chant never  came ;  and  Miciiael  told 
him,  with  considerable  anxiety,  that 
this  was  the  first  time  his  young  mas- 
ter had  missed  coming  this  five  years. 

In  course  of  the  day,  several  under- 
writers came  in,  with  long  faces,  to 
verify  the  report  which  had  now 
reached  Lloyd's,  that  the  Proserpine 
had  foundered  at  sea. 

"  It  is  too  true,"  said  Michael ; 
"  and  poor  Mr.  Wylie  here  has  barely 
escaped  with  his  life.  He  was  mate  of 
the  ship,  gentlemen." 

Upon  this,  cacli  visitor  questioned 
Wylie,  and  Wylie  returned  the  same 
smooth  answer  to  all  inquiries  :  one 
heavy  gale  after  another  had  so  tried 
the  ship  that  her  seams  had  opened, 
and  let  in  more  water  than  all  the 
exertions  of  the  crew  and  passengers 
could  discharge ;  at  last,  they  had 
taken  to  the  boats  ;  the  long-boat  had 
been  picked  up  :  the  cutter  luid  never 
been  heard  of  since. 

They  nearly  all  asked  after  the 
ship's  log. 

"I  have  got  it  safe  at  home,"  said 
he.     It  was  in  his  pocket  all  the  time. 

Some  asked  him  where  tlie  other 
survivors  were.  He  told  tliem  five 
had  shipped  on  board  the  Maria,  and 
three  were  with  him  at  Pojdar,  one 
disabled  by  the  hardsliips  they  had  all 
endured. 

One  or  two  complained  angrily  of 
Mr.  Wardlaw's  absence  at  such  a  time. 

"  Well,  good  gentlemen,"  said  Wy- 
lie, "  I  '11  tell  yc.  Mr.  Wardlaw's 
sweetheart  was  aboard  the  ship.     He 


is  a'most  broken-hearted.  He  vallied 
her  more  tlian  all  the  gold,  that  you 
may  take  your  oath  on." 

This  stroke,  coming  from  a  rough 
fellow  in  a  pea-jacket,  who  looked  as 
simple  as  he  was  cunning,  silenced 
remonstrance,  and  went  far  to  disarm 
suspicion ;  and  so  pleased  Michael 
Tenfold,  that  he  said,  "  Mr.  Wylie, 
you  are  interested  in  this  business, 
would  you  mind  going  to  Mr.  Ward- 
law's  house,  and  asking  what  we  are 
to  do  next  1  I  '11  give  you  his  ad- 
dress, and  a  line,  begging  him  to  make 
an  effort  and  see  you.  Business  is 
the  heart's  best  ointment.  Eh,  dear 
Mr.  Wylie,  I  have  known  grief  too  ; 
and  I  think  I  should  have  gone  mad 
when  they  sent  my  poor  son  away, 
but  for  business,  especially  the  sum- 
ming tip  of  long  columns,  &c." 

Wylie  called  at  the  house  in  Tius- 
sell  Square,  and  asked  to  see  jMr. 
Wardlaw. 

The  servant  shook  his  head.  "  You 
can't  see  him;  he  is  verv  ill." 

"  Very  ill  1  "  said  Wylie.  "  I  'm 
sorry  for  that.  Well,  but  I  sha'  n't 
make  him  any  worse  ;  and  IMr.  Pen- 
fold  says  I  must  see  him.  It  is  very 
particular,  I  tell  you.  He  won't 
thank  you  for  refusing  me,  when  he 
comes  to  hear  of  it." 

He  said  this  very  seriously  ;  and 
the  servant,  after  a  short  hesitation, 
begged  him  to  sit  down  in  the  passage 
a  moment.  He  then  went  into  the 
dining-room,  and  shortly  reappeared, 
holding  the  door  open.  Out  came, 
not  Wardlaw  junior,  but  Wardlaw 
senior. 

"My  son  is  in  no  condition  to  re- 
ceive you,"  said  he,  gravely  ;  "but  I 
am  at  your  service.  What  is  your 
business  ?  " 

Wylie  was  taken  off  his  guard,  and 
stammered  out  something  about  the 
Shannon. 

"  The  Shannon  !  What  have  you 
to  do  with  her  ?  You  belong  to  the 
Proserpine." 

"  Ay,  sir  ;  but  I  had  his  orders  to 
ship  forty  chests  of  lead  and  smelted 
copper  on  board  the  Shannon." 


FOUL  PLAY. 


75 


"  Well  ?  " 

"  Ye  see,  sir,"  said  "Wylie,  "  Mr. 
"Wardlaw  was  particular  about  them, 
and  I  I'eel  responsil)lc  like,  having 
shipped  them  aboard  another  vessel." 

"  Have  you  not  the  captain's  re- 
ceipt ? " 

"  That  I  have,  sir,  at  home.  But 
you  could  hardly  read  it  for  salt 
water." 

"  Well,"  said  ^Yardlaw  senior,  "I 
■will  direct  our  agent  at  Liverpool  to 
look  after  them,  and  send  them  up  at 
once  to  my  cellars  in  Fenchurch 
Street.  Forty  chests  of  lead  and 
copper,  I  think  you  said."  And  he 
took  a  note  of  this  directly.  Wylie 
was  not  a  little  discomfited  at  this  un- 
expected turn  things  had  taken  ;  but  he 
held  his  tongue  now,  for  fear  of  mak- 
ing bad  worse.  Wardlaw  senior  went 
on  to  say  that  he  should  have  to  con- 
duct the  business  of  the  firm  for  a 
time,  in  spite  of  his  old  ag^  and  fail- 
ing health. 

This  announcement  made  Wylie 
perspire  with  anxiety,  and  his  three 
thousand  pounds  seemed  to  melt  away 
from  him. 

"  But  never  mind,"  said  old  Ward- 
law  ;  "  I  am  very  glad  you  came.  In 
fact,  you  are  the  very  man  I  wanted 
to  see.  My  poor  afflicted  friend  has 
asked  after  you  several  times.  Be 
good  enough  to  follow  me." 

He  led  the  way  into  the  dining- 
room,  and  there  sat  the  sad  father  in 
all  the  quiet  dignity  of  calm,  un- 
fathomable sorrow. 

Another  gentleman  stood  upon  the 
rug  with  his  back  to  the  fire,  waiting 
for  Mr.  Wardlaw  ;  this  was  the  family 
physician,  who  had  just  come  down 
from  Arthur's  bedroom,  and  had  en- 
tered by  another  door  through  the 
drawing-room. 

"  Well,  doctor,"  said  W^ardlaw, 
anxiously,  "  what  is  your  report  ?  " 

"  Not  so  good  as  I  could  wish  ;  but 
nothing  to  excite  immediate  alarm. 
Overtaxed  brain,  sir,  weakened  and 
unable  to  support  this  calamity.  How- 
ever, we  have  reduced  the  fe^'cr  ;  the 
symptoms    of    delirium    have    been 


checked,  and  I  think  we  shall  escape 
brain  fever  if  he  is  kept  quiet.  I 
could  not  have  said  as  much  this 
morning." 

The  doctor  then  took  his  leave,  with 
a  promise  to  call  next  morning ; 
and,  as  soon  as  he  was  gone,  Wardlav/ 
turned  to  General  Kolleston,  and  said, 
"  Here  is  Wylie,  sir.  Come  forward, 
my  man,  and  speak  to  the  General. 
He  wants  to  know  if  you  can  point 
out  to  him  on  the  chart  the  very  spot 
where  the  Proserpine  was  lost  ?  " 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  Wylie,  "  I  think 
I  could." 

The  great  chart  of  the  Pacific  was 
then  spread  out  upon  the  table,  and 
rarely  has  a  chart  been  examined  as 
this  was,  with  the  bleeding  heart  as 
well  as  the  straining  eye. 

The  rough  sailor  became  an  oracle ; 
the  others  hung  upon  his  words,  and 
followed  his  brown  finger  on  the  chart 
with  fearful  interest. 

"  Ye  see,  sir,"  said  he,  addressing 
the  old  merchant,  for  there  was  some- 
thing on  his  mind  that  made  him 
avoid  speaking  directly  to  General 
Kolleston,  "when  we  came  out  of 
Sydney,  the  wind  being  south  and  by 
west,  Hudson  took  the  northerly  course 
instead  of  running  through  Cook's 
Straits.  The  weather  freshened  from 
the  same  quarter,  so  that,  with  one 
thing  and  another,  by  when  we  were  a 
month  out,  she  was  live  hundred  miles 
or  so  nor'ard  of  her  true  course.  But 
that  was  n't  all ;  when  the  leak  gained 
on  us,  Hudson  ran  the  ship  three  hun- 
dred miles  by  my  reckoning  to  the 
nor'east  ;  and,  I  remember,  the  day 
before  she  foundered,  he  told  me  she 
was  in  latitude  forty,  and  Easter  Island 
bearing  due  north." 

"  Here  is  the  spot,  then,"  said  Gen- 
eral Rolleston,  and  placed  his  finger 
on  the  spot. 

"  Ay,  sir,"  said  Wylie,  addressing 
the  merchant ;  "  but  she  ran  about 
eighty-five  miles  afterthat,  on  a  north- 
erl)'  course  —  no  —  wind  on  her  star- 
board quarter,  —  and,  being  deep  in 
the  water,  she  'd  make  lee  way,  —  say 
eighty-two  miles,  nor'east  by  east." 


76 


FOUL  PLAY. 


The  General  took  eighty-two  miles 
off  the  scale,  with  a  pair  of  dividers, 
and  set  out  that  distaac-e  on  the  chart. 
He  held  the  instrument  fixed  on  the 
point  thus  ohtaiiicd. 

Wylie  eyed  the  point,  and,  after  a 
moment's  consideration,  nodded  his 
head. 

"  There,  or  thereabouts,"  he  said,  in 
a  low  voice,  and  looking  at  the  mer- 
chant. 

A  pause  ensued,  and  the  two  old 
men  examined  the  speck  pricked  on 
the  map,  as  if  it  were  the  waters  cov- 
ering the  Proserpine. 

"  Now,  sir,"  said  liolleston,  "  trace 
tlie  course  of  the  boats " ;  and  he 
handed  Wylie  a  pencil. 

The  sailor  slowly  averted  his  head, 
but  stretched  out  his  hand  and  took 
it,  and  traced  two  lines,  the  one  short 
and  straight,  running  nearly  north- 
east. "  That 's  the  way  the  cutter 
headed  w'hen  we  lost  her  in  the 
night." 

The  other  line  ran  parallel  to  the 
first  for  half  an  inch,  then,  turning, 
bent  backwards  and  ran  due  south. 

"  This  was  our  course,"  said  Wv- 
lie. 

General  Rolleston  looked  up,  and 
said,  "  Why  did  you  desert  the  cut- 
ter ? " 

The  mate  looked  at  old  Wardlaw, 
and,  after  some  hesitation,  replied  : 
"  After  we  lost  sight  of  her,  the  men 
with  me  declared  that  we  could  not 
reach  either  Juan  Fernandez  or  Val- 
paraiso with  our  stock  of  provisions, 
and  insisted  on  standing  for  the  sea- 
track  of  Australian  liners  between  the 
Horn  and  Sydney." 

This  explanation  was  received  in 
dead  silence.  Wylie  fidgeted,  and  his 
eye  wandered  round  the  room. 

General  Rolleston  applied  his  com- 
passes to  the  chart.  "  I  lind  that  the 
Proserpine  was  not  one  thousand 
miles  from  Easter  Island.  Wiiy  did 
you  not  make  for  that  land  ?  " 

"  AVe  had  no  charts,  sir,"  said 
Wylie  to  the  merchant,  "  and  I  'm  no 
navigator." 

"  I  see  no  land  laid  down  hereaway, 


northeast  of  the  spot  where  the  ship 
went  down." 

"  No,"  replied  W3die,  "  that's  what 
the  men  said  when  they  made  me  'bout 
ship." 

"  Then  why  did  you  lead  the  way 
nortlieast  at  all  ?  " 

"  I  'm  no  navigator,"  answered  the 
man,  sullenly. 

He  then  suddenly  stammered  out : 
"Ask  my  men  what  we  went  through. 
Wliy,  sir"  (to  Wardlaw),  "I  can 
hardly  believe  tliat  I  am  alive,  and  sit 
here  talking  to  you  about  this  cursed 
business.  And  nobody  ofters  me  a 
drop  of  anything." 

Wardlaw  poured  him  out  a  tumbler 
of  wine.  His  brown  hand  trembled  a 
little,  and  he  gulped  the  wine  down 
like  water. 

General  Rolleston  gave  Mr.  Ward- 
law  a  look,  and  Wylie  was  dismissed. 
He  slouched  down  tlie  street  all  in  a 
cold  ])erspiration ;  but  still  clinging  to 
his  three  thousand  pounds,  though 
small  was  now  his  hope  of  ever  seeing 
it. 

When  he  was  gone  General  Rolles- 
ton paced  that  large  and  gloomy  room 
in  silence..  Wardlaw  eyed  him  with 
the  greatest  interest,  but  avoided 
speaking  to  him.  At  last  he  stopped 
short,  and  stood  erect,  as  veterans 
halt,  and  pointed  down  at  the  chart. 

"  I  '11  start  at  once  for  that  spot," 
said  he.  "I'll  go  in  the  next  ship 
bound  to  Valparaiso,  there  I  '11  char- 
ter a  small  vessel,  and  ransack  those 
waters  for  some  trace  of  my  poor  losl 
girL" 

"  Can  you  think  of  no  better  way 
than  that?  "  said  old  Wardlaw,  gen- 
tly, and  with  a  slight  tone  of  re- 
proach. 

"No,  —  not  at  this  moment.  O 
yes,  by  the  by,  the  Greyhound  and 
Dreadnaught  are  going  out  to  survey 
the  islands  of  the  Pacific.  I  have 
interest  enough  to  get  a  berth  in  the 
Gre}'liound." 

"  What !  go  in  a  government  ship  ! 
under  the  orders  of  a  man,  under  the 
orders  of  another  man,  under  the  or- 
ders of  a  Board.     Why,  if  you  heard 


FOUL   PLAY. 


77 


our  poor  girl  was  alive  tipon  a  rock, 
the  Dreadnaufjht  would  be  sure  to 
run  up  a  bunch  of  red-tape  to  the 
foi-e  that  moment  to  recall  the  Grey- 
hound, and  the  Gieyliound  would  }j;o 
back.  No,"  said  he,  rising  suddenly, 
and  confronting  the  General,  and 
witli  the  color  mounting  for  once  in 
his  sallow  face,  "  you  sail  in  no  bot- 
tom but  one  freighted  by  Wardlaw 
and  Son,  and  the  captain  shall  be 
under  no  orders  but  yours.  We  have 
bought  the  steam-sloop  Springbok, 
seven  hundred  tons.  I'll  victual  her 
for  a  year,  man  her  well,  and  you 
shall  go  out  in  her  in  less  than  a 
week.  I  give  you  my  hand  on 
that." 

They  grasped  hands. 

But  this  sudden  warmth  and  ten- 
derness, coming  from  a  man  habitu- 
ally cold,  overpowered  the  stout 
General.  "  What,  sir,"  he  faltered ; 
"  your  own  son  lies  in  danger,  yet 
your  heart  goes  so  with  me,  —  such 
goodness,  — it  is  too  much  for  me." 

"  No,  no,"  faltered  the  merchant, 
affected  in  his  turn ;  "  it  is  nothing. 
Your  poor  girl  was  coming  home  in 
that  cursed  ship  to  marry  my  son. 
Yes,  he  lies  ill  for  love  of  her  ;  God 
help  him  and  me  too  ;  but  you  most 
of  all.  Don't,  General ;  don't !  We 
have  got  work  to  do  ;  we  must  be 
brave,  sir  ;  brave  I  say,  and  compose 
ourselves.  Ah,  my  friend,  you  and  I 
are  of  one  age  ;  and  this  is  a  heavy 
blow  for  us  :  and  we  are  friends  no 
more ;  it  has  made  us  brothers  :  she 
was  to  be  my  child  as  well  as  yours  ; 
well,  now  she  is  my  child,  and  our 
hearts  they  bleed  together."  At  this, 
the  truth  must  be  told,  the  two  stout 
old  men  embraced  one  another  like 
two  women,  and  cried  together  a 
little. 

But  that  was  soon  over  with  such 
men  as  these.  They  sat  together 
and  plunged  into  the  details  of  the 
ex])edition,  and  they  talked  themselves 
into  hope. 

In  a  week  the  Springbok  stenmed 
down  the  Channel  on  an  errand  in- 


spired by  love,  not  reason  ;  to  cross 
one  mighty  ocean,  and  grope  for  a 
lost  daughter  in  another. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

We  return  to  the  cutter  and  her 
living  freight. 

After  an  anxious  but  brief  consul- 
tation, it  was  agreed  that  their  best 
chance  was  to  traverse  as  many  miles 
of  water  as  possible,  while  the  wind 
was  fair ;  by  this  means  they  would 
increase  their  small  chance  of  being 
picked  up,  and  also  of  falling  in  with 
land,  and  would,  at  all  events,  sail  ■ 
into  a  lovely  climate,  where  intense 
cold  was  unknown,  and  gales  of  wind 
uncommon.  Mr.  Hazel  advised  them 
to  choose  a  skipper,  and  give  him 
absolute  power,  especially  over  the 
provisions.  They  assented  to  this. 
He  then  recommended  Cooper  for 
that  post.  But  tfiey  had  not  fathomed 
the  sterling  virtues  of  that  taciturn 
seaman  ;  so  they  offered  the  command 
to  Welch,  instead. 

"  ]\Ie  put  myself  over  Sam  Cooper !  " 
said  lie ;  "  not  likely." 

Then  their  choice  fell  upon  Michael 
Morgan.  The  other  sailors'  names 
were  Prince,  Fenner,  and  Mackintosh. 

Mr.  Hazel  urged  Morgan  to  put  the 
crew  and  passengers  on  short  allow- 
ance at  once,  viz.  two  biscuits  a  day, 
and  four  table-spoonfuls  of  water  :  but 
jMorgan  was  a  common  sailor ;  he 
could  not  see  clearly  very  far  ahead ; 
and,  moreover,  his  own  appetite  coun- 
teracted this  advice ;  he  dealt  out  a 
pound  of  biscuit  and  an  ounce  of  ham 
to  each  person,  night  and  morning, 
and  a  pint  of  water  in  course  of  the 
day. 

Mr.  Hazel  declined  his  share  of  the 
ham,  and  begged  Miss  Rolleston  so 
earnestly  not  to  touch  it,  that  she 
yielded  a  silent  compliance. 

On  the  fourth  day  the  sailors  were 
all  in  good  spirits,  though  the  provis- 
ions were  now  very  low.  They  even 
sang,  and  spun  yarns.  This  was  part- 


78 


FOUL   PLAY. 


ly  owing  to  the  beauty  of  the  weath- 
er. 

On  the  fifth  day  Mort;an  announced 
that  he  could  only  serve  out  one  bis- 
cuit per  day  :  and  this  sudden  decline 
caused  some  dissatisfaction  and  alarm. 

Next  day,  tiie  water  ran  so  low, 
that  only  a  teasjioonful  was  served  out 
night  and  mornin<j. 

There  were  murmurs  and  forebod- 
ings. 

In  all  heavy  trials  and  extremi- 
ties some  man  or  other  reveals  great 
qualities,  that  were  latent  in  him,  ay, 
hidden  from  himself.  And  this  gen- 
eral observation  was  verified  on  the 
present  occasion,  as  it  had  been  in  the 
Indian  mutiny,  and  many  other  crises. 
Hazel  came  out. 

He  encouraged  the  men,  out  of  his 
multifarious  stores  of  learning.  He 
related  at  length  stories  of  wrecks  and 
sufferings  at  sea ;  which,  though  they 
had  long  been  in  print,  were  most  of 
them  new  to  these  poor  fellows.  He 
told  them,  among  the  rest,  what  the 
men  of  tlie  Bona  Dea,  waterlogged  at 
sea,  had  suffered,  —  twelve  days  with- 
out any  food  but  a  rat  and  a  kitten,  — 
yet  had  all  survived.  He  gave  them 
some  details  of  the  Wager,  tlic  Grosve- 
nor,the  Corbin,the  IMedusa ;  but,  above 
all,  a  most  minute  account  of  the 
Bounty,  and  Bligh's  wonderful  voy- 
age in  an  open  boat,  short  of  pro- 
visions. He  moralized  on  this,  and 
showed  his  fellow-sufferers  it  was  dis- 
cij)line  and  self-denial  from  the  first 
that  had  enabled  those  hungry  spec- 
tres to  survive,  and  to  traverse  two 
thousand  eight  hundred  miles  of  water, 
in  those  very  seas ;  and  that  in  spite 
of  hunger,  thirst,  disease,  and  rough 
weather. 

By  these  means  he  diverted  their 
minds  in  some  degree  from  their  own 
calamit}',  and  taught  them  the  lesson 
they  most  needed. 

The  poor  fellows  listened  with  more 
interest  tlian  you  could  have  ttiought 
possible  under  the  jircssure  of  bodily 
distress,  And  Helen  Kulleston's  ha- 
zel eye  dwelled  on  the  narrator  with 
unceasing  wonder. 


Yes,  learning  and  fortitude,  strength- 
ened by  those  great  examples  learning 
furnishes,  maintained  a  superiority, 
even  in  the  middle  of  the  Pacitic  ;  and 
not  the  rough  sailors  only,  hut  the  lady 
who  had  lejected  and  scorned  his  love, 
hung  u|)on  the  brave  student's  words  : 
she  was  compelled  to  look  up,  with 
wonder,  to  the  man  she  had  hated  and 
despised  in  her  hours  of  case. 

On  the  sixth  day  the  provisions 
failed  entirely.  Not  a  crust  of  bread  : 
not  a  drop  of  water. 

At  4  p.  M.  several  flying-fish,  driven 
into  the  air  by  the  dolphins  and  cat- 
fish, fell  into  the  sea  again  near  the 
boat,  and  one  struck  the  sail  sharply, 
and  fell  into  the  boat.  It  was  divided, 
and  devoured  raw,  in  a  moment. 

The  next  morning  the  wind  fell, 
and,  by  noon,  the  ocean  became  like 
glass. 

The  horrors  of  a  storm  have  been 
often  painted ;  but  who  has  described, 
or  can  describe,  the  horrors  of  a  calm, 
to  a  boat-load  of  hungry,  thirsty  crea- 
tures, whose  only  chances  of  salvation 
or  relief  are  wind  and  rain  1 

The  beautiful,  remorseless  sky  was 
one  vault  of  purple,  with  a  'great 
flaming  jewel  in  the  centre,  whose 
vertical  rays  struck,  and  parche;!,  and 
scorched  the  living  suflerers ;  and 
blistered  and  baked  the  boat  itself,  so 
that  it  hurt  their  hot  hands  to  touch 
it :  the  beautiful,  remorseless  ocean 
was  one  sheet  of  glass,  that  glared  in 
their  bloodshot  eyes,  and  reflected 
the  intolerable  heat  of  heaven  upon 
these  poor  wretches,  who  were  gnawed 
to  death  with  hanger  ;  and  their  rag- 
ing thirst  was  fiercer  still. 

Towards  afternoon  of  the  eighth 
day,  Mackintosh  dipped  a  vessel  in 
the  sea,  with  the  manifest  intention  of 
drinking  the  salt  water. 

"  Stop  him  !  "  cried  Hazel,  in  great 
agitation  ;  and  the  others  seized  him, 
and  overpowered  him :  he  cursed 
them  with  such  horrible  curses,  that 
Miss  l{ollcston  put  her  fingers  in  her 
ears,  and  shuddered  from  head  to  foot. 
Even  this  was  new  to  her,  to  hear 
foul  language. 


FOUL  PLAY. 


79 


A  calm  voice  rose  in  the  midst,  and 
said  :  "  Let  us  pray." 

There  was  a  ilcail  silence,  and  Mr. 
Plazel  kneeled  down  ar.d  prayed  loud 
and  fervently;  and,  while  he  prayed, 
the  furious  cries  subsided  for  a  while, 
and  deep  groans  only  were  heard. 
He  prayed  ibr  food,  for  rain,  for  wind, 
for  Patience. 

The  men  were  not  so  far  gone  but 
they  could  just  manage  to  say 
"  Amen." 

He  rose  from  his  knees,  and  gath- 
ered the  pale  faces  of  the  men  to- 
gether in  one  glance;  and  saw  that 
intense  expression  of  agony  which 
physical  pain  can  mould  with  men's 
features :  and  then  he  strained  his 
eyes  over  the  brassy  horizon ;  but  no 
cloud,  no  veil  of  vapor  was  visible. 

"  Water,  water  everywhere,  but  not  a  drop  to 
drink." 

"  We  must  be  mad,"  lie  cried,  "to 
die  of  thirst  with  all  this  water  round 
us." 

Plis  invention  being  stimulated  by 
this  idea,  and  his  own  dire  need,  he 
eagerly  scanned  everything  in  the 
boat,  and  his  eyes  soon  lighted  on 
two  objects  disconnected  in  them- 
selves, but  it  struck  him  he  could  use 
them  in  combination.  These  were  a 
common  glass  bottle,  and  Miss  Rol- 
leston's  life-preserving  jacket,  that 
served  her  for  a  couch.  He  drew  this 
garment  over  his  knees,  and  con- 
sidered it  attentively ;  then  untwisted 
the  brass  nozzle  through  which  the 
jacket  was  inflated,  and  so  left  a  tube, 
some  nine  inches  in  length,  hanging 
down  from  the  neck  of  the  garment. 

He  now  applied  his  breath  to  the 
tube,  and  the  jacket  swelling  rapidly 
proved  that  the  whole  receptacle  was 
air-tight. 

He  then  allowed  the  air  to  escape. 
Next,  he  took  the  bottle  and  filled  it 
with  water  from  the  sea  ;  then  he  in- 
serted, with  some  difficulty,  and  great 
care,  the  neck  of  the  bottle  into  the 
orifice  of  the  tube  :  tliis  done,  he  de- 
tached the  wire  of  the  brass  nozzle, 
and  whipped  the  tube  firmly  round 
the  neck  of  the  bottle. 


"  Now,  light  a  fire,"  he  cried ;  "  no 
matter  what  it  costs." 

The  fore  thwart  was  chopped  up, 
and  a  fire  soon  spluttered  and  sparkled, 
for  ten  eager  hands  were  feeding  it : 
the  bottle  was  then  suspended  over  it, 
and,  in  due  course,  the  salt  water 
boiled  and  threw  off  vapor,  and  the 
belly  of  the  jacket  began  to  heave  and 
stir.  Hazel  then  threw  cold  water 
upon  the  outside,  to  keep  it  cool,  and, 
while  the  men  eagerly  watched  the 
bubbling  bottle  and  swelling  bag,  his 
spirits  rose,  and  he  took  occasion  to 
explain  that  what  was  now  going  on 
under  their  eyes  was,  after  all,  only 
one  of  the  great  processes  of  Nature, 
done  upon  a  small  scale.  "  The 
clouds,"  said  he,  "are  but  vapors 
drawn  from  the  s^a,  by  the  heat  of 
the  sun :  these  clouds  are  composed 
of  fresh  water,  and  so  the  steam  we 
are  now  raising  from  salt  water  will 
be  fresh.  We  can't  make  whiskey,  or 
brew  beer,  lads ;  but,  thank  Heaven, 
we  can  brew  water;  and  it  is  worth 
all  other  liquors  ten  times  told." 

A  wild  "Hurrah!"  greeted  these 
words. 

But  every  novel  experiment  seems 
doomed  to  fail,  or  meet  with  some 
disaster.  The  water  in  the  bottle  had 
been  reduced  too  low,  by  vaporism, 
and  the  bottle  burst  suddenly,  with  a 
loud  report.  That  report  was  fol- 
lowed by  a  piteous  wail. 

Hazel  turned  pale  at  this  fatal 
blow :  but,  recovering  himself,  he 
said,  "  That  is  unfortunate ;  Init  it 
was  a  good  servant  while  it  lasted : 
give  me  the  baler;  and,  Miss  Rol- 
leston,  can  you  lend  me  a  thim- 
ble 1 " 

The  tube  of  the  life-preserver  was 
held  over  the  baler,  and  out  trickled  a 
small  quantity  of  pure  water,  two 
thiml)lefuls  apiece.  Even  that,  as  it 
passed  over  their  swelling  tongues  and 
parched  swallows,  was  a  heavenly 
relief:  but,  alas,  the  supply  was  then 
exhausted. 

Next  day  hunger  seemed  uppermost, 
and  the  men  gnawed  and  chewed  their 
tobacco-pouches :  and  two  caps,  that 


80 


FOUL  PLAY. 


had  been  dressed  with  the  hair  on, 
were  divided  for  food. 

jS'oiiu  was  f^ivcn  to  Mr.  PLizel  or 
Miss  Kolleston ;  and  this,  to  do  the 
poor  creatures  justice,  was  the  first 
instance  of  injustice  or  partiality  the 
sailors  liad  sliown. 

Tlie  hidy,  though  tormented  with 
hunger,  was  more  magnanimous  ;  she 
ofll'rcd  to  divide  the  contents  of  her 
little  medicine  chest ;  and  the  globules 
were  all  devoured  in  a  moment. 

And  now  their  tortures  were  aggra- 
vated by  the  sight  of  abundance. 
Tliey  drifted  over  coral  rocks,  at  a 
considerable  depth,  but  the  water  was 
so  cxcjuisitely  clear  tliat  they  saw  five 
fatlionis  down.  They  discerned  small 
fish  drifting  over  the  bottom ;  they 
looked  like  a  driving  cloud,  so  vast 
was  their  number ;  and  every  now 
and  then  there  was  a  scurry  among 
them,  and  porpoises  and  dog-fish 
broke  in  and  feasted  on  them.  All 
this  they  saw,  yet  could  not  catch 
one  of  those  billions  for  their  lives. 
Thus  they  were  tantalized  as  well  as 
starved. 

The  next  day  was  like  the  last,  with 
this  difterence,"that  the  sufierers  could 
no  longer  endure  their  torments  in 
silence. 

The  lady  moaned  constantly :  the 
sailors  groaned,  lamented,  and  cursed. 

The  sun  baked  and  blistered,  and 
the  water  glared. 

The  sails  being  useless,  the  sailors 
rigged  them  as  an  awning,  and  salt 
water  was  constantly  thrown  over 
them. 

JNIr.  Hazel  took  a  baler  and  drenched 
his  own  clothes  and  Miss  KoUeston's 
upon  their  bodies.  This  relieved  the 
hell  of  thirst  in  some  degree  :  but  the 
sailors  could  not  be  persuaded  to  prac- 
tise it. 

In  the  afternoon  Hazel  took  Miss 
Rolleston's  Bible  from  her  wasted 
hands,  and  read  aloud  the  fortj'-second 
Psalm. 

AVhen  he  had  done,  one  of  the 
sailors  asked  him  to  pass  the  Bible 
forward.  Ho  did  so  ;  and  in  half  an 
hour  the  leaves  were  returned  him; 


the  vellum  binding  had  been  cut  off, 
divided,  and  eaten. 

He  looked  piteously  at  the  leaves, 
and,  after  a  while,  fell' upon  his  knees 
and  prayed  silently. 

He  ro'se,  and,  w"ith  Miss  Rolleston's 
consent,  offered  the  men  the  leaves  as 
well.  "  It  is  the  Bread  of  Life  for 
men's  souls,  not  their  bodies,"  said 
he.  "  But  God  is  merciful ;  I  think 
he  will  forgive  you ;  for  your  need  is 
bitter." 

Cooper  replied  that  the  binding 
was  man's,  but  the  pages  were  God's ; 
and,  either  for  this  or  another  more 
obvious  reason,  the  leaves  were  de- 
clined for  food. 

All  that  afternoon  Hazel  was  mak- 
ing a  sort  of  rough  spoon  out  of  a 
fragment  of  wood. 

The  night  that  followed  was  darker 
than  usual,  and,  about  midnight,  a 
hand  was  laid  on  Helen  Rolleston's 
shoulder,  and  a  voice  whispered, 
"  Hush  !  say  nothing.  I  have  got 
something  for  you." 

At  the  same  time,  something  sweet 
and  deliciously  fragrant  was  ])ut  to 
her  lips ;  she  opened  her  mouth,  and 
received  a  spoonful  of  mainialade. 
Never  did  marmalade  taste  like  that 
before.  It  dissolved  itself  like  Am- 
brosia over  her  palate,  and  even  re- 
lieved her  parched  throat  in  some 
slight  degree  by  the  saliva  it  excited. 

Nature  could  not  be  resisted ;  her 
body  took  whatever  he  gave.  But 
her  high  mind  rebelled. 

"  0  how  base  I  am,"  said  she,  and 
wept. 

"  Why,  it  is  your  own,"  said  he, 
soothingU^;  "I  took  it  out  of  your 
cabin  expressly  for  you." 

"  At  least  oblige  me  by  eating 
some  yourself,  sir,"  said  Helen,  "or" 
(with  a  sudden  burst)  "I  will  die  ere  I 
touch  another  morsel." 

"  I  feci  the  threat,  Miss  Rolleston  ; 
but  I  do  not  need  it,  for  I  am  very, 
very  huncry.  But  no  ;  if  /  t;ike  any, 
I  must  divide  it  all  with  thrin.  But 
if  you  will  help  me  unrip  the  jacket,  I 
will  suck  the  inside  —  after  you." 
Helen  gazed  at  him,  and  wondered 


FOUL  PLAY. 


81 


at  tlie  man,  and  at  the  strange  love 
which  had  so  bitterly  otlbnded  her 
when  she  was  surrounded  by  com- 
forts ;  but  now  it  extorted  her  re- 
spect. 

They  unripped  the  jacket,  and 
found  some  moisture  left.  They 
sucked  it,  and  it  was  a  wonderful, 
and  incredible  relief  to  their  parched 
gullets. 

The  next  day  was  a  fearful  one. 
Not  a  cloud  in  the  sky  to  give  hope 
of  rain ;  the  iiir  so  light,  it  only 
just  moved  them  along ;  and  the  sea 
glared,  and  the  sun  beat  on  the  poor 
wretches,  now  tortured  into  madness 
with  hunger  and  thirst. 

The  body  of  man,  in  this  dire  ex- 
tremity, can  suffer  internal  agony  as 
acute  as  any  that  can  be  inflicted  on 
its  surface  by  the  knife ;  and  the 
cries,  the  screams,  the  groans,  the 
prayers,  the  curses,  intermingled,  that 
issued  from  the  boat,  were  not  to  be 
distinguished  from  the  cries  of  men 
horribly  wounded  iir  battle,  or  writh- 
ing under  some  terrible  operation  in 
hospitals. 

0,  it  was  terrible  and  piteous  to  see 
and  hear  the  boat-load  of  ghastly  vic- 
tims, with  hollow  cheeks,  and  wild- 
beast  eyes,  go  groaning,  cursing,  and 
shrieking  loud,  upon  that  fair  glassy 
sea,  below  that  purple  vault  and 
glorious  sun. 

Towards  afternoon,  the  sailors  got 
together,  forward,  and  left  Hazel  and 
Miss  Kolleston  alone  in  the  stern. 
This  gave  him  an  opportunity  of 
speaking  to  her  confidentially.  He 
took  advantage  of  it,  and  said,  "  Miss 
RoUcston,  I  wish  to  consult  you. 
Am  I  justified  in  secreting  the  mar- 
malade any  longer  1  There  is  nearly 
a  spoonful  apiece." 

"  No,"  said  Helen,  "  divide  it 
amongst  them  all.  O,  if  I  had  only 
a  woman  bc-ide  me,  to  pray  with,  and 
cry  with,  and  die  with  :  for  die  we 
must." 

"  I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,"   said 

Hazel,  faintly,  but  with  a  cool  fortitude 

all  his    own.      "  Experience    proves 

that  the  human  body  can  subsist  a 

6 


prodigious  time  on  very  little  food : 
and  saturating  the  clothes  with  water 
is,  1  know%  the  best  way  to  allay  thirst. 
And  w^oraen,  thank  Heaven,  last 
longer  than  men,  under  privations." 

"  I  shall  not  last  long,  sir,"  said 
Helen.     "  Look  at  their  eyes." 

"  What  do  you  mean  1 " 

"  I  mean  that  those  men  there  are 
jrointi  to  kill  me." 


CHAPTER  XX. 

Hazel  thought  her  reason  was 
going ;  and,  instead  of  looking  at  the 
men's  eyes,  it  was  hers  he  examined. 
But  no  ;  the  sweet  cheek  was  white, 
the  eyes  had  a  fearful  hollow  all  round 
them,  but,  out  of  that  cave,  the  light 
hazel  eye,  preternaturally  large,  but 
calm  as  ever,  looked  out,  full  of  forti- 
tude, resignation,  and  reason. 

"  Don't  look  at  7ne,"  said  she,  quiet- 
ly ;  "  but  take  an  opportunity  and 
look  at  them.  They  mean  to  kill 
me." 

Hazel  looked  furtively  roirnd  ;  and, 
being  enlightened  in  part  by  the 
woman's  intelligence,  he  observed 
that  some  of  the  men  were  actually 
glaring  at  himself  and  Helen  RoUes- 
ton,  in  a  dreadful  w'ay.  There  was  a 
remarkable  change  in  their  eyes  since 
he  looked  last.  The  pupils  seemed 
diminished,  the  whites  enlarged  ;  and, 
in  a  word,  the  characteristics  of  hu- 
manity had,  somehow,  died  out  of  those 
bloodshot  orbs,  and  the  animal  alone 
shone  in  them  now ;  the  wild  beast, 
driven  desperate  by  hnnger. 

What  he  saw,  coupled  with  Helen's 
positive  interpi-etation  of  it,  was  truly 
sickening. 

These  men  were  six,  and  he  but 
one.  They  had  all  clasp-knives  ;  and 
he  had  only  an  old  penknife  that 
would  be  sure  to  double  up,  or  break 
off,  if  a  blow  were  dealt  with  it. 

He  asked  himself,  in  utter  terror, 
what  on  earth  he  should  do. 

The  first  thing  seemed  to  be  to  join 
the  men,  and  learn  their  minds :  it 


82 


FOUL  PLAY. 


might  also  be  as  well  to  prevent  this 
SL'CTft  coiiference  fiom  <;oiM<i-  further. 

He  went  fbrwanl  boldly,  tliouf,Hi  sick 
at  heart,  ami  said,  "  Well,  my  lads, 
what  is  it  ?  " 

The  men  were  silent  directly,  and 
looked  sullenly  down,  avoiding  his 
eye  ;  yet  not  ashamed. 

In  a  situation  so  terrible,  the  senses 
are  sharjiened  ;  and  Hazel  dissected,  in 
his  mind,  tliis  sinister  look,  and  saw 
that  Morgan,  rrince,  and  Mackintosh 
were  hostile  to  him. 

But  Welch  and  Cooper  he  hoped 
were  still  friendly. 

"  Sir,"  said  Fenner,  civilly  but 
doggedly,  "  wc  arc  come  to  this  now, 
that  one  must  die,  for  the  others  to 
live  :  and  the  greater  part  of  us  are 
for  casting  lots  all  round,  and  let 
every  man,  and  every  woman  too, 
take  their  chance.  That  is  fair,  Sara, 
is  n't  it? " 

"It  is  fair,"  said  Cooper,  with  a 
terrible  doggcdncss.  "  But  it  is  hard," 
he  added. 

"  Harder  that  seven  should  die  for 
one,"  said  Mackintosh.  "No,  no; 
one  must  die  for  the  seven." 

Hazel  represented,  with  all  the  force 
language  possesses,  that  what  they 
meditated  was  a  crime,  the  fatal  re- 
sult of  which  was  known  by  experi- 
ence. 

But  they  heard  in  ominous  silence. 

Hazel  went  back  to  Helen  Kolles- 
ton,  and  sat  down  right  iiel'ore  her. 

"Well!"  said  she,  with  supernat- 
ural calmness. 

"  You  were  mistaken,"  said  he. 

"  Then  why  have  you  placed  your- 
self between  them  and  me.  No,  no  ; 
their  eyes  have  told  me  they  have 
singled  me  out.  But  what  does  it 
matter  ?  We  poor  creatures  are  all 
to  die ;  and  that  one  is  the  happiest 
that  dies  first,  and  dies  unstained  by 
siu'h  a  crime.  1  heard  every  word  you 
said,  sir." 

Ilazel  cast  a  piteous  look  on  her, 
and,  linding  he  could  no  longer  de- 
ceive her  as  to  their  danger,  and  be- 
ing weakened  by  famine,  fell  to  trem- 
bling and  crying. 


Helen  Rolleston  looked  at  him  with 
calm  and  gentle  pity.  For  a  moment, 
the  patient  fortitude  of  a  woman  made 
her  a  brave  man's  sujierior. 

Night  came,  and,  lor  the  first  time. 
Hazel  claimed  two  portions  of  the 
rum  ;  one  for  himself  and  one  for 
Miss  Rolleston. 

He  then  returned  aft,  and  took  the 
helm.  He  loosened  it,  so  as  to  be 
ready  to  unshij)  it  in  a  moment,  and 
use  it  as  a  weapon. 

The  men  huddled  together  forward ; 
and  it  was  easy  to  see  that  the  boat  was 
now  divided  into  two  hostile  cainjis. 

Hazel  sat  quaking,  with  his  hand 
on  the  helm,  fearing  an  attack  every 
moment. 

Both  he  and  Helen  listened  acutely, 
and  about  three  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing a  new  incident  occurred,  of  a  ter- 
rible nature. 

Mackintosh  was  heard  to  say, 
"  Serve  out  the  rum,  no  allowance," 
and  the  demand  was  instantly  com- 
plied with  by  Morgan. 

Then  Hazel  touched  Miss  Rolles- 
ton on  the  shoulder,  and  insisted  on 
her  taking  half  what  was  left  of  the 
marmalade,  and  he  took  the  other 
half.  The  time  was  gone  by  for  econ- 
omy ;  what  they  wanted  now  was 
strength,  in  case  the  wild  beasts,  mad- 
dened by  drink  as  well  as  hunger, 
should  attack  them. 

Already  the  liquor  had  begun  to 
tell,  and  Mild  hallos  and  yells,  and 
even  fragments  of  ghastly  songs  min- 
gled Avith  the  groans  of  misery,  in  the 
doomed  boat. 

At  sunrise  there  was  a  great  swell 
upon  the  water,  and  sharp  gusts  at 
intervals  ;  and  on  the  horizon,  to 
windward,  might  be  observed  a  black 
s])ot  in  the  sky,  no  bigger  than  a  fly. 
But  none  saw  that ;  Iliizel's  eye  never 
left  the  raving  wretches  in  the  fore- 
part of  the  boat  ;  Cooper  and  AVeleli 
sat  in  gloomy  despair  amidships  ;  and 
the  others  were  huddled  together  for- 
ward, encouraging  each  other  to  a 
desperate  act. 

It  was  about  eight  o'clock  in  tho 
morning  Helen  Eolleston  awoke  from 


FOUL  TLAY. 


83 


a  brief  doze,  and  said,  "Mr.  Hazel,  I 
luive  had  a  fitrauf^c  ilieam.  I  dreamed 
there  was  foud,  and  plenty  of  it,  on 
the  outside  of  this  boat." 

Wiiile  these  strange  words  were  yet 
in  her  mouth,  three  of  the  sailors  sud- 
denly rose  up  wiih  their  knives 
drawn,  and  eyes  full  of  murder,  and 
stau;4e''e<l  aft  as  fast  as  their  enfeebled 
bodies  eould. 

Hazel  uttered  a  loud  cry,  "  Weleh  ! 
Cooper !  will  you  see  us  butchered  I " 
and,  unshipping  the  helm,  rose  to  his 
feet. 

Cooper  j)ut  out  his  arm  to  stop 
IMaekintosh,  but  was  too  late.  He 
did  stop  Morgan,  however,  and  said, 
"  Come,  none  of  that ;  no  foul  play  !  " 

Irritated  by  this  unexpected  resist- 
ance, and  maddened  by  drink,  Mor- 
gan turned  on  Cooper  and  staltbcd 
him  ;  he  satdc  down  with  a  groan  ; 
on  this  Welch  gave  Moigan  a  fearful 
gash,  dividing  his  jugular,  and  was 
stabbed,  in  return,  by  Prince,  but  not 
severely :  these  two  gra])pled  and 
rolled  over  one  another,  stabbing  and 
cursing  at  the  bottom  of  the  boat ; 
meantime,  Mackintosh  was  received 
by  Hazel  with  a  point-blank  thrust  in 
the  face  from  the  helm,  that  staggered 
him,  though  a  very  powerful  man, 
and  drove  him  backwards  against  the 
mast ;  but,  in  delivering  this  thrust. 
Hazel's  foot  slipj)e(l,  and  he  fell  with 
great  violence  on  his  head  and  arm  ; 
Mackintosh  recovered  himself,  and 
sprang  ujjon  the  stern  thwart  with 
his  knife  up  and  gleaming  over  Helen 
Ilolleston.  Hazel  writhed  round 
where  he  lay,  and  struck  him  desper- 
ately on  the  knee  with  the  helm. 
The  poor  woman  knew  only  how  to 
sulfer ;  she  cowered  a  little,  and  put 
up  two  feeble  hands. 

The  knife  descended. 

But  not  u[)on  that  cowering  figure. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

A  PURPLE  rippling  line  upon  the 
water  had  for  some  little  time  been 


coming  down  upon  them  with  great  ra- 
pidity; but,  bent  on  bloody  work,  they 
iuul  not  observed  it.  The  boat  heeled 
over  under  the  sudden  gust ;  but  the 
ruliian  had  already  lost  his  footing 
under  Hazel's  blow,  and,  the  boom 
striking  him  almost  at  the  same  mo- 
ment, lie  went  clean  over  the  gunwale 
into  the  sea;  he  struck  it  with  his 
knife  first. 

All  their  lives  were  now  gone  if 
Cooper,  who  had  already  recovered 
his  feet,  had  not  immediately  cut  the 
sheet  with  his  knife  ;  there  was  no 
time  to  slack  it;  and,  even  as  it  was, 
the  lower  part  of  the  sail  was  drenched, 
and  the  boat  full  of  water.  "  Ship 
the  helm  !  "  he  roared. 

The  boat  righted  directly  the  sheet 
was  cut,  the  wet  sail  Hapjied  furiously, 
and  the  boat  having  way  on  her  yield- 
ed to  the  helm  and  wiiggled  slowly 
away  before  the  whistling  wind. 

Mackintosh  rose  a  few  yards 
astern,  and  swam  after  the  boat,  with 
great  glaring  eyes ;  the  loose  sail 
was  not  drawing,  but  the  wind  moved 
the  boat  onward.  However,  Mackin- 
tosh gained  slowly,  and  Hazel  held 
up  an  oar  like  a  sjjcar,  and  shouted 
to  him  that  he  must  promise  solemnly 
to  forego  all  violence,  or  he  should 
never  come  on  board  alive. 

Mackintosh  opened  his  mouth  to 
re])ly  ;  but,  at  the  same  moment,  his 
eyes  suddenly  dilated  in  a  fearful 
way,  and  he  went  under  water,  with 
a  gurgling  cry.  Yet  not  like  one 
drowning,  but  with  a  jerk. 

The  next  moment  there  was  a 
great  bubbling  of  the  water,  as  if 
displaced  by  some  large  creatures 
struggling  below,  and  then  the  surface 
was  stained  with  blood. 

And,  lest  there  should  be  any 
doubt  as  to  the  wretched  man's  fate, 
the  huge  back  fin  of  a  monstrous 
shark  came  soon  after,  gliding  round 
and  round  the  rolling  boat,  awaiting 
the  next  victim. 

Now,  while  the  water  was  yet 
stained  with  his  life-blood,  who,  hur- 
rying to  kill,  had  met  with  a  violent 
death,  the  unwoundcd  sailor,  Fenner, 


84 


FOUL  PLAY. 


excited  by  the  fracas,  broke  forth  in- 
to singing,  and  so  completed  tlic  lior- 
ror  of  a  wild  and  awful  scene  ;  ibr 
still,  while  he  shouted,  laughed,  and 
sang,  the  shark  swam  calmly  round 
and  round,  and  the  boat  crept  on,  her 
white  sail  bespattered  with  blood,  — 
which  was  not  so  before,  —  and  in  her 
bottom  lay  one  man  dead  as  a  stone  ; 
and  two  poor  wretches,  Piincc  and 
Welch,  their  short-lived  feud  com- 
posed forever,  sat  openly  sucking 
their  bleeding  wounds,  to  quench  for 
a  moment  their  intolerable  thirst. 

O,  little  do  we,  who  never  pass  a  sin- 
gle day  without  bite  or  sup,  know  the 
animal  man,  in  these  dire  extremities. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

At  last  Cooper  ordered  Fenner  to 
hold  his  jaw,  and  come  aft,  and  help 
sail  the  boat. 

But  the  man,  being  now  stark  mad, 
took  no  notice  of  the  order.  His  mad- 
ness grew  on  him,  and  took  a  turn  by 
no  means  uncommon  in  these  cases. 
He  saw  before  him  sumptuous  feasts, 
and  streams  of  fresh  water  ilowing. 
These  he  began  to  describe  with  great 
volubility  and  rapture,  smacking  his 
lips,  and  exulting  :  and  so  he  went  on 
tantalizing  them  till  noon. 

Meantime,  Cooper  asked  Mr.  Ha- 
zel if  he  could  sail  the  boat. 

"  I  can  steer,"  said  he,  "  but  that  is 
all.     My  right  arm  is  benumbed." 

The  silvery  voice  of  Helen  RoUes- 
ton  then  uttered  brave  and  welcome 
■words.  "  I  will  do  whatever  you  tell 
me,  Mr.  Cooper." 

"  Long  life  to  you,  miss  !  "  said  the 
wounded  seaman.  He  then  directed 
her  how  to  reef  the  sail,  and  sjjlice  the 
sheet  which  he  had  been  obliged  to 
cut ;  and,  in  a  word,  to  sail  the  boat ; 
which  she  did  with  some  little  assist- 
ance from  Hazel. 

And  so  tlieyail  depended  upon  her, 
whom  some  of'  them  hail  been  for  kill- 
ing :  and  the  blood-stained  boat  glid- 
ed before  the  wind. 


At  two  p.  HI.  Tenner  jumjied  sud- 
denly up,  and,  looking  at  the  sea  with 
rapture,  cried  out,  "  Aha  !  my  boys, 
here 's  a  beautiful  green  meadow ; 
and  there 's  a  sweet  brook  with  bul- 
rushes :  green,  green,  green  !  Let 's 
have  a  roll  among  the  daisies."  And, 
in  a  moment,  ere  any  of  his  stiff  and 
wounded  shipmates  could  put  out  a 
hand,  he  threw  himself  on  his  back 
upon  the  water,  and  sunk  forever, 
with  inexpressible  rapture  on  his 
corpse-like  face. 

A  feeble  groan  was  the  only  tribute 
those  who  remained  behind  could  af- 
ford him. 

At  three  p.  m.  Mr.  Hazel  happened 
to  look  over  the  weather-side  of  the 
boat,  as  she  heeled  to  leeward  under 
a  smart  breeze,  and  he  saw  a  shell  or 
two  fastened  to  her  side,  about  eleven 
inches  above  keel.  He  looked  again, 
and  gave  a  loud  hurrah.  "  Barna- 
cles !  barnacles  !  "  he  cried.  "  I  see 
them    sticking." 

He  leaned  over,  and,  with  some 
difBculty,  detached  one,  and  held  it 
up. 

It  was  not  a  barnacle,  but  a  curious 
oblong  shell-fish,  open  at  one  end. 

At  sight  of  this,  the  wounded  for- 
got their  wounds,  and  leaned  over 
the  boat's  side,  detaching  the  shell-lish 
with  their  knives.  They  broke  them 
with  the  handles  of  their  knives,  and 
devoured  the  fish.  They  were  as 
thick  as  a  man's  finger,  and  about  an 
inch  long,  and  as  sweet  as  a  nut.  It 
seems  that  in  the  long  calm  these 
shell-fish  had  fastened  on  the  boat. 
More  than  a  hundred  of  them  were 
taken  off  her  weather-side,  and  evenly 
divided. 

Miss  Rolleston,  at  Hazel's  earnest 
request,  ate  only  six,  and  these  very 
slowly,  and  laid  the  rest  by.  But 
the  sailors  could  not  restrain  them- 
selves ;  and  Prince,  in  particular, 
gorged  himself  so  fiercely  that  he 
turned  purj)le  in  the  face,  and  began 
to  breathe  very  hard. 

That  black  speck  on  the  horizon 
had  grown  by  noon  to  a  beetle,  and 
by  three  o'clock  to  something  more 


FOUL  PLAY. 


85 


like  an  elephant,  and  it  now  diffused 
itself  into  a  huge  black  cloud,  that 
gradually  overspiead  the  heavens ; 
and  at  last,  aliout  half  an  hour  be- 
fore sunset,  came  a  peculiar  chill, 
and  then,  in  due  course,  a  drop  or 
two  fell  upon  the  parched  wretches. 
They  sat,  less  like  animals  than  like 
jilants,  all  stretching  towards  their 
pre^:crver. 

Their  eyes  were  turned  up  to  the 
clouds,  so  were  their  open  mouths, 
and  their  arms  and  hands  held  up 
towards  it. 

The  drops  increased  in  number, 
and  praise  went  up  to  heaven  in  re- 
turn. 

Fatter,  patter,  patter  ;  down  came 
a  shower,  a  rain,  —  a  heavy,  steady 
rain. 

With  cries  of  joy,  they  put  out 
every  vessel  to  catch  it ;  they  low- 
ered' the  sail,  and,  putting  ballast  in 
the  centre,  bellied  it  into  a  great  ves- 
sel to  catch  it.  They  used  all  their 
spare  canvas  to  catch  it.  They 
filled  the  water-cask  with  it ;  they 
filled  the  keg  that  had  held  the  fatal 
spirit;  and  all  the  time  they  were 
sucking  the  wet  canvas,  and  their 
own  clothes,  and  their  very  Ininds 
and  garments  on  which  the  life-giv- 
ing drops  kept  falling. 

Then  they  set  their  little  sail 
again,  and  prayed  for  land  to  Him 
who  had  sent  them  wind  and  rain. 


CHAPTER  XXIIL 

The  breeze  declined  at  sunset ; 
but  it  rained  at  intervals  during  tiie 
night;  and  by  the  morning  they  were 
somewhat  chilled. 

Death  had  visited  them  again 
during  the  night.  Prince  was  dis- 
covered dead  and  cold  ;  his  wounds 
were  mere  scratches,  and  there  seems 
to  be  no  doubt  that  he  died  by  gorg- 
ing himself  with  more  food  than  his 
enfeebled  system  could  possibly  di- 
gest. 

Thus   dismally    began    a    day   of 


comparative  bodily  comfort,  but  men- 
tal distress,  especially  to  Miss  llolles- 
ton  and  Mr.  Hazel. 

Now  that  this  lady  and  gentleman 
were  no  longer  goaded  to  madness 
by  physical  suffering,  their  higher 
sensibilities  resumed  their  natural 
force,  and  the  miserable  contents  of 
the  blood-stained  boat  shocked  them 
terribly.  Two  corpses  and  two 
wounded  men. 

Mr.  Hazel,  however,  soon  came  to 
one  resolution,  and  that  was  to  read 
the  funeral  service  over  the  dead, 
and  then  commit  them  to  the  deep. 
He  declared  this  intention,  and  Coop- 
er, who,  though  wounded,  and  appar- 
ently sinking,  was  still  skij^per  of 
the  boat,  acquiesced  readily. 

Mr.  Hazel  then  took  the  dead 
men's  knives  and  their  money  out 
of  their  pockets,  and  read  the  burial- 
service  over  them ;  tltey  were  then 
committed  to  the  deep.  This  sad 
ceremony  performed,  he  addressed  a 
few  words  to  the  survivors. 

"  My  friends,  and  brothers  in  af- 
fliction, we  ought  not  to  hope  too 
much  from  Divine  mercy  for  our- 
selves ;  or  we  should  come  soon  to 
forget  Divine  justice.  But  we  are 
not  forbidden  to  hope  for  others. 
Those  who  are  now  gone  were  guilty 
of  a  terrible  crime  ;  but  then  they 
were  tempted  more  than  their  flesh 
could  bear  ;  and  they  received  their 
punishment  here  on  earth  :  we  may 
therefore  hope  they  will  escape  pun- 
ishment hereafter.  And  it  is  for  us 
to  profit  by  their  fiite,  and  bow  to 
Heaven's  will :  even  when  they  drew 
their  knives,  food  in  plenty  was 
within  their  reach,  and  the  signs  of 
wind  were  on  the  sea,  and  of  rain  in 
the  sky.  Let  us  be  more  patient  than 
they  were,  and  place  our  trust  — 
What  is  that  upon  the  water  to  lee- 
ward 1     A  piece  of  wood  floating  1  " 

Welch  stood  up  and  looked.  "  Can't 
make  it  out.  Steer  alongside  it,  miss, 
if  you  please."  And  he  crept  for- 
ward. 

Presently  he  became  excited,  and 
directed  those  in  the   stern  how  to 


86 


FOUL   PLAY. 


steer  the  boat  close  to  the  ohject  with- 
out froin<;  over  it.  Ho  bcL:t:L'(l  them 
all  to  be  silent.  He  leaned  over  the 
boat-side  as  thcyneured  it.  He  chi tolled 
it  suddenly  with  botli  hands  and  tlunj; 
it  into  the  bo:it  with  a  sliout  of  tri- 
umph, but  sank  exhausted  by  the  ef- 
fort. 

It  was  a  yonno;  turtle  ;  and  being 
asleep  on  the  water,  or  ine.xperienced, 
had  allowed  them  to  capture  it. 

This  was  indeed  a  godsend  :  twelve 
pounds  of  succulent  meat.  It  was 
instantly  divided,  and  Mr.  Hazel  con- 
trived, with  some  ditHculty,  to  boil  a 
portion  of  it.  He  enjoyed  it  greatly  ; 
but  Mi>s  Rollcston  sliowed  a  curious 
and  violent  antiijatliy  to  it,  scarcely 
credible  under  the  circumstances.  Not 
so  the  sailors.  They  devoured  it  raw, 
what  they  could  get  at  all.  Cooper 
could  only  get  down  a  mouthful  or 
two:  he  had  received  his  death-wound, 
and  was  manifestly  sinking. 

He  revived,  however,  from  time  to 
time,  and  spoke  cheerfully,  whenever 
he  spoke  at  all.  Welch  informed  him 
of  every  incident  that  took  place, 
however  minute.  Then  he  w'ould  nod, 
or  utter  a  syllable  or  two. 

On  being  told  that  they  were  pass- 
ing through  sea-weed,  he  expressed  a 
wish  to  see  some  of  it,  and  when  he 
had  examined  it,  he  said  to  Hazel, 
"  Keep  up  your  heart,  sir ;  you  are 
'not  a  hundred  miles  from  land."  He 
added  gently,  after  a  pause,  "  But  I 
am  bound  for  another  port." 

About  five  in  the  afrcrnoon,  Welch 
came  afr,  with  the  ti>ars  in  his  eyes,  to 
say  that  Sam  was  just  going  to  slip 
his  cable,  and  had  something  to  say 
to  them. 

They  went  to  him  directly,  and 
Hazel  took  his  hand,  and  exhorted 
him  to  forgive  all  his  enemies. 

'•  Hain't  a  got  none,"  was  the  re- 
ply. 

Hazel  then,  after  a  few  words  of  re- 
ligious exhort  ition  and  comfort,  asked 
him  if  he  could  do  anything  for  him. 

"  Ay,"  sai<l  Cooper,  solemnly. 
"  Got  pen  and  ink  aboard,  any  of 
yel" 


"  I  have  a  pencil,"  said  Helen, 
earnestly;  then,  tearfully,  "0  dear! 
it  is  to  make  his  will."  She  opened 
her  prayer-buok  which  had  two  blank 
leaves  under  each  cover. 

The  dying  man  saw  them,  and  rose 
into  that  remarkable  energy  which 
sometimes  precedes  the  departure  of 
the  soul. 

"  Write  !  "  said  he  in  his  deep,  full 
tones. 

"  I,  Samuel  Cooper,  able  seaman, 
am  going  to  slip  my  cable,  and  sail 
into  the  presence  of  my  Maker." 

He  waited  till  this  w^as  written. 

"  And  so  I  speak  the  truth. 

.    "  Tlie  ship  Proserpine  was  destroyed 
wilful. 

"  The  men  had  more  allowance 
than  they  signed  for. 

"  The  mate  was  always  plying  the 
captain  with  liquor. 

"  Two  da}-3  before  ever  the  ship 
leaked,  the  mate  got  tlie  long-boat 
ready. 

"  W^hen  the  Proserpine  sank,  we 
was  on  her  port  quarter,  aboard  the 
cutter,  was  me  and  my  messmate 
Tom  Welch. 

"  We  saw  two  anger-holes  in  her 
stern,  about  two  inches  diameter. 

"  Them  two  holes  was  made  from 
within,  for  the  splinters  showed  out- 
side. 

"  She  was  a  good  ship,  and  met 
with  no  stress  of  weather  to  speak 
of,  on  that  voyage. 

"Joe  Wylie  scuttled  her  and  de- 
stroyed her  jjcople. 

"  D — n  his  eves!  " 


Mr.   Uazcl  was    shocked    at    this 


FOUL  PLAY. 


87 


finale  ;  but  he  knew  what  sailors  are, 
and  how  little  meanin;^  there  is  in 
their  set  phrases.  However,  as  a 
c1<rgyman,  he  could  not  allow  these 
to  be'  Cooper's  last  woi  ds ;  so  he  said 
earnestly,  "  Yes,  but,  my  poor  fL-llow, 
you  Sfiid  you  forgave  all  your  enemies. 
We  all  need  forgiveness,  you  know." 

"  That  is  true,  sir." 

"  And  you  forgive  this  Wylie,  do 
you  not  ? " 

"  O,  Lord,  yes,"  said  Coorper,  faint- 
ly. "  I  forgive  the  lubber ;  d — n 
him ! " 

Having  said  these  words  with  some 
difficulty,  he  became  lethargic,  and 
so  remained  for  two  hours.  Indeed 
he  spoke  hut  once  more,  and  that 
was  to  Welch  ;  though  they  were  all 
about  him  then.  "  Messmate,"  said 
he,  in  a  voice  that  was  now  faint 
and  broken,  "  you  and  I  must  sail  to- 
gether on  this  new  voyage.  I  'm 
going  out  of  port  first;  but"  (in  a 
whisper  of  inconceivable  tenderness 
and  simple  cunning)  "  I  '11  lie  to  out- 
side the  harbor  till  you  come  out,  my 
boy."  Then  he  paused  a  moment. 
Then  he  added,  softly,  "For  I  love 
you,  Tom." 

These  sweet  words  were  the  last  of 
that  rugged,  silent  sailor,  who  never 
threw  a  word  away,  and  whose  rough 
breast  enclosed  a  friendship  as  of  the 
ancient  world,  tender,  true,  and  ever- 
lasting :  that  sweetened  his  life  and 
ennobled  his  death.  As  he  deserved 
mourners,  so  he  had  true  ones.  His 
last  words  went  home  to  the  afflicted 
hearts  that  heard  them,  and  the  lady 
and  gentleman,  whose  lives  he  had 
saved  at  cost  of  his  own,  wept  aloud 
over  their  departed  friend.  But  his 
messmate's  eye  was  dry.  When  all 
was  over,  he  just  turned  to  the  mourn- 
ers, and  said,  gravely,  "  Thank  ye, 
sir  :  thank  ye  kindly,  ma'am."  And 
then  he  covered  the  body  decently 
with  the  spare  canvas,  and  lay  quietly 
down  with  his  own  liead  pillowed 
upon  those  loved  remains. 

Towards  afternoon,  seals  were  ob- 
served sporting  on  the  waters  ;  but  no 
attempt  was  made  to  capture  them. 


Indeed,  Miss  Rolleston  had  quite 
enough  to  do  to  sail  the  boat  with 
Mr.  Hazel's  assistance. 

The  night  passed,  and  the  morning 
brought  nothing  new ;  except  that 
they  fell  in  with  sea-weed  in  such 
quantities  the  boat  could  hardly  get 
through  it." 

Mr.  Hazel  examined  this  sea-weed 
carefully,  and  brought  several  kinds 
upon  deck.  Amongst  the  varieties, 
was  one  like  thin  green  strips  of 
spinach,  very  tender  and  succulent. 
His  botanical  researches  included  sea- 
weed, and  he  recognized  this  as  one 
of  the  edible  rock-weeds. 

There  was  very  little  of  it  compara- 
tively, but  he  took  great  pains,  and, 
in  two  hours'  time,  had  gathered  as 
much  as  might  fill  a  good  slop-basin. 

He  washed  it  in  fresh  water,  and 
then  asked  Miss  Rolleston  for  a  pocket- 
handkerchief  This  he  tied  so  as  to 
make  a  bag,  and  contrived  to  boil  it 
with  the  few  chips  of  fuel  that  re- 
mained on  board. 

After  he  had  boiled  it  ten  minutes, 
there  was  no  more  fuel,  except  a  bowl 
or  two,  and  the  boat-hook,  one  pair 
of  oars,  and  the  midship  and  stern 
thwarts. 

He  tasted  it,  and  found  it  glutinous 
and  delicious ;  he  gave  Miss  Rolles- 
ton some,  and  then  fed  Welch  with 
the  rest.  He,  poor  fellow,  enjoyed 
this  sea  spinach  greatly ;  he  could  no 
longer  swallow  meat. 

While  Hazel  was  feeding  him,  a 
flight  of  ducks  passed  over  their  heads, 
high  in  the  air. 

Welch  pointed  up  at  them. 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Helen,  "  if  we  had  but 
their  wings  ! " 

Presently  a  bird  was  seen  coming 
in  the  same  direction,  but  flying  very 
low ;  it  wabbled  along  towards  them 
very  slowly,  and  at  last,  to  their  great 
surprise,  came  flapping  and  tried  to 
settle  on  the  gunwale  of  the  boat. 
Welch,  with  that  instinct  of  slaughter 
which  belongs  to  men,  struck  the 
boat-hook  into  the  bird's  back,  and  it 
was  soon  despatched.  It  proved  to  be 
one  of  that  very  flock  of  ducks  that 


FOUL  PLAY. 


had  passed  over  their  heads,  and  a 
crab  was  found  fastened  to  its  le^^.  It 
is  sup])osed  that  the  bird,  to  break  its 
loiiLC  lliL.dit,  IkkI  rested  on  some  reef, 
and,  |)erbaps,  bt'en  too  busy  tisliiug ; 
and  cauy;bt  tbis  Tartar. 

Ila/.ei  poiiiieed  upon  it.  "Heaven 
has  sent  this  for  you,  because  you 
cannot  eat  turtle."  But  tlie  next  mo- 
ment lie  bluslied  and  recovered  liis 
reason.  "  See,"  said  he,  rcferriiifjf  to 
her  own  words,  "  this  poor  bird  had 
winj^s,  yet  deatlr  overtook  her." 

He  sacritieed  a  bowl  for  fuel,  and 
boiled  the  duek  and  the  crab  in  one 
pot,  and  Miss  llolleston  ate  demurely 
but  plentifully  of  both.  Of  the  crab's 
shell  be  ni:ide  a  little  drinking-vessel 
for  Miss  Kolleston. 

Cooper  lemained  without  funeral 
rites  all  this  time ;  tbe  reason  was 
that  Welch  lay  with  his  head  pillowed 
upon  bis  dead  friend,  and  Hazel  had 
not  tbe  heart  to  disturb  iiim. 

But  it  was  the  survivors'  duty  to 
commit  him  to  the  deep,  and  so  Hazel 
sat  down  by  Welch,  and  asked  bim 
kindly  whether  he  would  not  wish  tbe 
services  of  the  Cburcli  to  be  read  over 
his  departed  friend. 

"In  course,  sir,"  said  Welch.  But 
the  next  moment  he  took  Hazel's 
meaning,  and  said  hurriedly,  "  No, 
no;  I  can't  let  Sam  be  buried  in  the 
sea.  Ye  see,  sir,  Sam  and  I,  we  are 
used  to  one  another,  and  I  can't  abide 
to  ))art  with  bim,  alive  or  dead." 

"  All  !  "  said  Hazel,  "  tbe  best 
friends  must  part  when  death  takes 
one." 

"  Ay,  ay,  when  t'  other  lives.  But, 
Lord  bless  you,  sir  !  1  sba'  n't  be  long 
astarn  of  my  messmate  here ;  can't 
you  see  that  ?  " 

"  Heaven  forbid  !  "  said  Hazel,  sur- 
prised and  alarmed.  "  Why,  you  arc 
not  wounded  mortally,  as  Cooper  was. 
ILive  a  good  heart,  man,  and  we  three 
will  all  see  old  En^daiid  yet." 

"  Well,  sir,"  s^jd  Welch,  coolly, 
"I'll  tell  ye:  me  and  my  shipmate. 
Prince,  was  a  cutting  at  one  another 
witli  our  knives  a  smart  time  (and  I 
do  properly  wonder,  when  I  think  of 


that  day's  work,  for  I  liked  the  man 
well  enough,  but  rum  atop  of  starva- 
tion plays  hell  with  seafaring  men), 
well,  sir,  as  I  was  a  saying,  be  let 
more  blood  out  of  me  than  I  could 
afford  to  lose  under  the  circumstances. 
And,  ye  .see,  I  can't  make  fresh 
blood,  because  my  throat  is  so  swelled 
by  the  drought,  I  can't  swallow 
much  meat,  so  I  'm  safe  to  lose  tlie 
number  of  my  mess ;  and,  another 
thing,  my  heart  is  n't  altogether  set 
towards  living.  Sam,  here,  he  give 
me  an  order;  what,  did  n't  ye  hear 
bim  1  '  I  'II  lie  to  outside  the  bar,' 
says  he,  '  till  you  come  out.'  He 
expects  me  to  come  out  in  his  wake. 
Don't  ye,  Sam,  —  that  was  ?  "  and  he 
laid  bis  hand  gently  on  the  remains. 
"  Now,  sir,  I  shall  ax  the  lady  and 
you  a  favor.  I  want  to  lie  alongside 
Sam.  But  if  you  bury  him  in  the 
sea,  and  me  ashore,  why,  d — n  my 
eyes  if  I  sha'  n't  be  a  thousand  years 
or  so  before  I  can  find  my  own  mess- 
mate. Etarnity  is  a  'nation  big  place, 
I  'm  told,  a  hundred  times  as  big  as 
both  oceans.  No,  sir ;  you  '11  make 
land,  by  Sam's  reckoning,  to  morrow 
or  next  day,  Avind  and  tide  permit- 
ting. I  '11  take  care  of  Sam's  hull 
till  then,  and  we  '11  lie  together  till 
the  angel  blows  that  there  trumpet; 
and  then  we  '11  go  aloft  together,  and, 
as  soon  as  ever  we  have  made  our 
scrape  to  our  betters,  we  '11  both 
speak  a  good  word  for  you  and  the 
lady,  a  very  pretty  lady  she  is,  and  a 
good-hearted,  and  the  best  plucked 
one  I  ever  did  see  in  any  distressed 
craft;  now  don't  ye  cry,  miss,  don't 
yc  cry,  your  trouble  is  pretty  near 
over ;  he  said  you  was  not  a  hundred 
miles  from  land  :  I  don't  know  how 
he  knew  that,  lie  was  always  a  better 
seaman  than  I  be  ;  hut  say  it  he  did, 
and  that  is  enough,  for  be  was  a  man 
as  never  told  a  lie,  nor  wasted  a 
word." 

Welch  could  utter  no  more  just 
then ;  for  tbe  gbinds  of  his  throat 
were  swollen,  and  he  spoke  with  con- 
siderable ditticultv. 

What    could    Hazel  reply?     The 


FOUL  PLAY. 


89 


judgment  is  sometimes  ashamed  to 
contradict  the  heart  with  cold  rea- 
sons. 

He  only  said,  with  a  sigh,  that  he 
saw  no  signs  of  land,  and  believed 
they  had  gone  on  a  wrong  course, 
and  were  in  the  heart  of  the  Pacific. 

Welch  made  no  answer,  but  a  look 
of  good-natured  contempt.  The  idea 
of  this  parson  contradicting  Sam 
Cooper ! 

The  sun  broke,  and  revealed  the 
illimitable  ocean ;  themselves  a  tiny 
speck  on  it. 

Mr.  Hazel  whispered  Miss  Rol- 
leston  that  Cooper  must  be  buried 
to-day. 

At  ten  p.  M.  they  passed  through 
more  sea-weed ;  but  this  time  they 
had  to  eat  the  sea  spinach  raw,  and 
there  was  very  little  of  it. 

At  noon,  the  sea  was  green  in 
places. 

Welch  told  them  this  was  a  sign 
they  were  nearing  land. 

At  four  p.  M.  a  bird,  about  the  size 
and  color  of  a  woodpecker,  settled  on 
the  boat's  mast. 

Their  glittering  eyes  fastened  on 
it;  and  Welch  said,  "  Come,  there  's 
a  supper  for  you  as  can  eat  it." 

"  No,  poor  thing  ! "  said  Helen 
EoUeston. 

"  You  are  right,"  said  Hazel,  with 
a  certain  effort  of  self-restraint.  "Let 
our  sufferings  make  us  gentle,  not 
savage  :  that  poor  bird  is  lost  like  us 
upon  this  ocean.     It  is  a  land-bird." 

"  How  do  you  know  1  " 

"  Water-birds  have  webbed  feet, — 
to  swim  with."  The  bird,  having 
rested,  flew  to  the  northwest. 

Helen,  by  one  of  those  inspired 
impulses  her  sex  have,  altered  the 
boat's  course  directly,  and  followed 
the  bird. 

Half  an  hour  before  sunset,  Helen 
Rolleston,  whose  vision  was  very 
keen,  said  she  saw  something  at  the 
verge  of  the  horizon,  like  a  hair  stand- 
ing upright. 

Hazel  looked,  but  could  not  see 
anything. 


In  ten  minutes  more,  Helen  Rolles- 
ton pointed  it  out  again  ;  and  then 
Hazel  did  see  a  vertical  line,  more 
like  a  ship's  mast  than  anything  else 
one  could  expect  to  see  there. 

Their  eyes  were  now  strained  to 
make  it  out,  and,  as  the  boat  ad- 
vanced, it  became  more  and  more 
palpable,  thougii  it  was  hard  to  say 
exactly  what  it  was. 

Five  minutes  before  the  sun  set,  the 
air  being  clearer  than  ever,  it  stood 
out  clean  against  the  sky.  A  tree,  — 
a  lofty,  solitary  tree ;  with  a  tall  stem, 
like  a  column,  and  branches  only  at 
the  top. 

A  palm-tree  —  in  the  middle  of  the 
Pacific. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

And  but  for  the  land-bird  which 
rested  on  their  mast,  and  for  their 
own  mercy  in  sparing  it,  they  would 
have  passed  to  the  eastward,  and 
never  seen  that  giant  palm-tree  in 
mid-ocean. 

"  O  let  us  put  out  all  our  sails, 
and  fly  to  it !  "  cried  Helen. 

Welch  smiled  and  said,  "  No,  miss, 
ye  must  n't.  Lord  love  ye  ;  what ! 
run  on  to  a  land  ye  don't  know, 
happy  go  lucky,  in  the  dark,  like 
that  ■;  Lay  her  head  for  the  tree,  and 
welcome,  but  you  must  lower  the 
mainsel,  and  treble-reef  the  forescl ; 
and  so  creep  on  a  couple  of  knots  an 
hour,  and,  by  daybreak,  you  '11  find 
the  island  close  under  your  Ice.  Tiicn 
you  can  look  out  for  a  safe  landing- 
place." 

"  The  island,  Mr.  Welch  !  "  said 
Helen.  "  There  is  no  island,  or  I 
should  have  seen  it." 

"  O,  the  island  was  hull  dowm. 
Why,  you  don't  think  as  palm-trees 
grow  in  the  water  ?  You  do  as  I 
say,  or  you  '11  get  wrecked  on  some 
thundering  reef  or  other." 

Upon  this  Mr.  Hazel  and  Miss  Rol- 
leston set  to  work,  and,  with  consider- 
able difficulty  lowered  the  mainsail, 
and  treble-reefed  the  foresail. 


90 


FOUL  PLAY. 


"  That  is  rip;ht,"  said  Welch.  "  To- 
morrow you  '11  land  in  safetv,  and 
bury  my  messmate  ami  me." 

""()  no!"  crit'd  IleicMi  Rollcston. 
"  We  must  bury  him,  but  we  mean 
to  cure  you."  Tiiey  obeyed  Welch's 
instructions,  and  so  crept  on  all  niyht ; 
and,  so  well  had  this  able  seaman 
calculated  distance  and  rate  of  sail- 
ing, that,  when  the  sun  rose,  sure 
enough  there  was  an  island  under 
their  lee,  distant  about  a  league, 
though  it  looked  much  less.  But  the 
palm-tree  was  more  than  twice  that 
distance.  Owing  to  wind  and  current 
they  had  made  lee-way  all  night,  and 
that  tree  stood  on  the  most  westerly 
point  of  the  island. 

Hazel  and  Miss  Rolleston  stood  up 
and  hurrahed  for  joy ;  then  fell  on 
their  knots  in  silent  gratitude.  Welch 
only  smiled. 

But  the  breeze  had  freshened,  and, 
though  there  were  no  great  waves  at 
sea,  yet  breakers,  formidable  to  such 
a  craft  as  theirs,  were  seen  foaming 
over  long  disjointed  reefs  ahead,  that 
grinned  black  and  -dangerous  here 
and  there. 

They  then  consulted  Welch,  and 
he  told  them  they  must  tack  directly, 
and  make  a  cnxuit  of  the  island ;  he 
had  to  show  them  how  to  tack  ;  and, 
the  sea  rising,  they  got  thoroughly 
wetted,  and  Miss  Rolleston  rather 
frightened ;  for  here  was  a  jjeril  they 
had  wonderfully  escaped  hitherto. 

However,  before  eleven  o'clock, 
they  had  stood  out  to  sea,  and  coasted 
the  whole  south  side  of  the  island  : 
they  then  put  the  boat  before  the 
wind,  and  soon  ran  past  the  east 
coast,  which  was  very  narrow, — in 
fact,  a  sort  of  bluff-iiead,  —  and  got 
on  the  north  side  of  the  island.  Here 
the  water  was  comparatively  smooth, 
and  the  air  warm  and  balmy.  They 
ranged  along  the  coast  at  about  a 
mile's  distance,  looking  out  for  a  good 
hinding. 

Here  was  no  longer  an  unbroken 
line  of  cliffs,  but  an  undulating  coast, 
with  bulging  rocks,  and  lines  of  reef. 
Alter  a  mile  or  two  of  that  the  coast 


ran  out  seaward,  and  they  passed  close 
to  a  most  extraordinary  phenouienou 
of  vegetation.  Great  tangled  woods 
crowned  the  shore  and  the  landward 
slopes,  and  their  grand  foliage  seemed 
to  How  over  into  the  sea  •  for  here  was 
a  broad  rocky  flat,  intersected  with  a 
thousand  little  channels  of  the  sea ; 
and  the  thousand  little  islets  so 
formed  were  crowded,  covered,  and 
hidden  with  luxuriant  vegetation. 
Huge  succulent  leaves  of  the  richest 
hue  hung  over  the  water,  and  some 
of  the  most  adventurous  showed,  by 
the  crystals  that  sparkled  on  their 
green  surface,  that  the  waves  had  act- 
ually been  kissing  them  at  higii  tide. 
This  ceased,  and  they  passed  under  a 
cliff,  wooded  nearly  to  the  point. 

This  cliff  was  broad  and  irregular, 
and  in  one  of  its  cavities  a  cascade  of 
pure  fresh  water  came  sparkling, 
leaping,  and  tumbling  down  to  the 
foot  of  the  rock.  There  it  had  formed 
a  great  basin  of  water,  cool,  deep, 
transparent,  whicli  trickled  over  on  to 
a  tongue  of  pink  sand,  and  went  in 
two  crystal  gutters  to  the  sea. 

Great  and  keen  was  the  rapture 
this  sight  caused  our  poor  parched 
voyagers  ;  and  eager  their  desire  to 
land  at  once,  if  ])ossiblc,  and  plunge 
their  burning  lips,  and  swelling 
throats,  and  fevered  hands,  into  that 
heavenly  liquid ;  but  the  next  mo- 
ment they  were  diverted  from  that  pur- 
pose by  the  scene  that  burst  on  them. 

This  wooded  cliff",  with  its  wonder- 
ful cascade,  was  the  very  gate  of  par- 
adise. They  passed  it,  and  in  one 
moment  were  in  a  bay, — a  sudden 
bay,  wonderfully  deep  for  its  extent, 
and  sheltered  on  three  sides.  Broad 
sands  with  rainbow  tints,  all  spar- 
kling, and  dotted  with  birds,  some 
wiiite  as  snow,  some  gorgeous.  A 
peaceful  sea  of  cxipiisite  blue  kissing 
these  lovely  sands  with  myriad  dim- 
ples ;  and,  from  the  land  side,  soft 
emerald  slopes,  cmbroiilercd  with  sil- 
ver threads  of  water,  came  to  the  very 
edge  of  the  sands  :  so  that,  from  all 
those  glorious  hues,  that  flecked  tho 
prismatic  and  sparkling  sands,  the  eye 


FOUL  PLAY. 


91 


of  the  voyagers  passed  at  once  to  the 
vivid,  yet  sweet  and  soothing,  green 
of  ivature ;  and  over  this  paradise 
the  breeze  tliey  could  no  longer  feel 
waftL'd  spicy  but  delicate  odors  from 
unseen  trees. 

Even  Welch  raised  himself  in  the 
boat,  and  snified  the  heavenly  air, 
and  smiled  at  the  heavenly  spot. 
"  Here 's  a  blessed  haven  !  "  said  he. 
"  Down  sail,  and  row  her  ashore." 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

They  rowed  more  than  a  mile,  so 
deep  was  the  glorious  bay ;  and  tiien 
their  oars  struck  the  ground.  But 
Hazel  with  the  boat-hook  propelled 
the  boat  gently  over  the  pellucid  water, 
that  now  seemed  too  shallow  to  float 
a  canoe :  and  at  last  looked  like  the 
mere  varnish  of  that  picture,  the  pris- 
matic sands  below  ;  yet  still  the  little 
craft  glided  over  it,  till  it  gently 
glazed  the  soft  sand,  and  was  station- 
aiy.  So  placidly  ended  that  terrible 
voyage. 

Mr.  Hazel  and  Miss  Rolleston  were 
on  shore  in  a  moment,  and  it  was 
all  they  could  do  not  to  fall  upon  the 
land  and  kiss  it. 

Never  had  the  sea  disgorged  upon 
that  fairy  isle  such  ghastly  spectres. 
They  looked,  not  like  people  about 
to  die,  but  that  had  died,  affid  been 
buried,  and  just  come  out  of  their 
graves  to  land  on  that  blissful  shore. 
He  should  have  started  back  with 
horror  ;  but  the  birds  of  that  virgin 
isle  merely  stepped  out  of  their  way, 
and  did  not  fly. 

They  had  landed  in  paradise. 

Even  Welch  yielded  to  that  univer- 
sal longing  men  have  to  embrace  the 
land  after  perils  at  sea,  and  was  put- 
ting his  leg  slowly  over  the  gunwale, 
when  Hazel  came  back  to  his  assist- 
ance. He  got  ashore,  but  was  con- 
tented to  sit  down  with  his  eyes  on  the 
dimpled  sea  and  the  boat,  waiting 
quietly  till  the  tide  should  float  his 
friend  to  his  feet  again. 


The  sea-birds  walked  quietly  about 
him,  and  miiided  him  not. 

Miss  Rolleston  ascended  a  green 
slope  very  slowly,  for  her  limbs  were 
cramped,  and  was  lost  to  view. 

Hazel  now  went  up  the  beach,  and 
took  a  more  minute  survey  of  the 
neighborhood. 

The  west  sideof  thebay  was  varied. 
Half  of  it  presented  the  soft  charac- 
ter that  marked  the  bay  in  general ; 
but  a  portion  of  it  was  rocky,  though 
streaked  with  vegetation,  and  this  part 
was  intersected  by  narrow  clefts,  into 
which,  in  some  rare  tempests  and  high 
tides  combined,  tongues  of  the  sea  had 
entered,  licking  the  sides  of  the  gullies 
smooth ;  and  these  occasional  visits 
were  marked  b}-  the  sand  and  broken 
shells  and  other  debris  the  tempestuous 
and  encroaching  sea  had  left  behind. 

The  true  high-water  mark  was  sev- 
eral feet  lower  than  these  debris,  and 
was  clearly  marked.  On  the  land 
above  the  cliff's  he  found  a  tangled 
jungle  of  tropical  shrubs,  into  which 
he  did  not  penetrate,  but  skirted  it, 
and,  walking  eastwartl,  came  out  upon 
a  delicious  down  or  grassy  slope,  that 
faced  the  centre  of  the  bay.  It  was  a 
gentleman's  lawn  of  a  thousand  acres, 
with  an  extremely  gentle  slope  from 
the  centre  of  the  island  down  to  the 
sea. 

A  river  flowing  from  some  distant 
source  ran  eastward  through  this  down, 
but  at  its  verge,  and  almost  encircled 
it.  Hazel  traversed  the  lawn  until 
this  river,  taking  a  sudden  turn 
towards  the  sea,  intercepted  him  at  a 
spot  which  he  immediately  fixed  on 
as  Helen  Rolleston's  future  residence. 

Four  short,  thick,  umbrageous  trees 
stood  close  to  the  stream  on  tins  side, 
and  on  the  eastern  side  was  a  grove  of 
gigantic  palm-trees,  at  whose  very 
ankles  the  river  ran.  Indeed,  it  had 
undermined  one  of  these  palm-trees, 
and  that  giant  at  this  moment  lay  all 
across  the  stream,  leaving  a  gap 
through  which  Hazel's  eye  could 
pierce  to  a  great  depth  among  those 
grand  columns  ;  for  they  stood  wide 
apart,  and  there  was  not  a  vestige  of 


92 


FOUL  PLAY. 


brushwood,  jangle,  or  even  grass, 
below  their  enormous  crowns.  He 
christened  the  place  St.  Helen's  on 
the  spot. 

He  now  dipped  his  baler  into  the 
stream,  and  found  it  pure  and  tolerably 
cool. 

He  followed  the  bend  of  the  stream  ; 
it  evaded  the  slope  and  took  him  l»y 
its  own  milder  descent  to  the  sands  : 
over  tlicse  it  flowed  smooth  as  glass 
into  the  sea. 

ILizel  ran  to  Welch  to  tell  him  all 
he  had  discovered,  and  to  give  him 
his  first  water  from  the  island. 

He  found  a  roan-colored  pigeon, 
with  a  purplish  neck,  ])crched  on  the 
sick  man's  foot.  The  bird  shone  like 
a  rainbow,  and  cocked  a  saucy  eye  at 
Hazel,  and  flew  up  into  the  air  a  few 
yards,  but  it  soon  appeared  that  fear 
had  little  to  do  with  this  movement ; 
for,  after  an  airy  circle  or  two,  he 
fanned  Hazel's  cheek  with  his  fast- 
flapping  wings,  and  lighted  on  the 
very  edge  of  the  baler,  and  was  for 
sipping. 

"  (),  look  here,  Welch !  ''  cried 
Hazel,  in  an  ecstasy  of  delight. 

"  Ay,  sir,"  said  he.  "  Poor  things, 
they  hain't  a  found  us  out  yet." 

The  talking  puzzled  the  l)ird,  if  it 
did  not  alarm  him,  and  he  flew  up  to 
the  nearest  tree,  and,  perching  there, 
inspected  these  new  and  noisy  bipeds 
at  his  leisure. 

Hazel  now  laid  bis  hand  on  Welch's 
shoulder  and  reminded  him  gently 
they  had  a  sad  duty  to  perform,  which 
could  not  be  postponed. 

"  Right  you  are,  sir,"  said  Welch, 
"and  very  kind  of  you  to  let  mo  have 
my  way  with  him.     Poor  Sam  ! " 

"  I  have  found  a  place,"  said  Ha- 
zel, in  a  low  voice.  "  We  can  take 
the  boat  close  to  it.  But  where  is 
Miss  Rolleston  ?  " 

"  O,  she  is  not  far  off ;  she  was 
here  just  now,  and  brought  me  this 
here  little  cocoa-nut,  and  patted  me 
on  the  back,  she  did,  then  ofl"  again 
on  a  cruise.     RIcs-i  her  little  heait  !  " 

Hazel  and  WeKh  then  got  into  the 
boat,  and  pushed  olf  without  much 


difficulty,  and  punted  across  the  bay 
to  one  of  those  clefts  we  have  indi- 
cated. It  was  now  nearly  high  water, 
and  they  moored  the  boat  close  under 
the  cleft  Hazel  had  selected. 

Then  they  both  got  out  and  went 
up  to  the  extremity  of  the  cleft,  and 
there,  with  the  axe  and  with  pieces 
of  wood,  they  scraped  out  a  resting- 
place  for  Cooper.  This  was  light 
work ;  for  it  was  all  stones,  shells, 
fragments  of  coral,  and  dried  sea- 
weed, lying  loosely  together.  But 
now  came  a  hard  task  in  which  Welch 
could  not  assist.  Hazel  unshipped  a 
thwart,  and  laid  the  body  on  it :  then 
by  a  great  eflbrt  staggered  with  the 
burden  up  to  the  grave  and  deposited 
it.  He  was  exhausted  by  the  exer- 
tion, and  had  to  sit  down  panting  for 
some  time.  As  soon  as  he  was  re- 
covered, he  told  Welch  to  stand  at 
the  head  of  the  grave,  and  he  stood 
at  the  foot,  bareheaded,  and  then, 
from  memory,  he  repeated  the  service 
of  our  Church,  hardly  missing  or  dis- 
placing a  word. 

This  was  no  tame  recital ;  the 
scene,  the  circumstances,  the  very  ab- 
sence of  the  book,  made  it  tender  and 
solemn.  And  then  Welch  repeated 
those  bcaiitilul  words  after  Hazel, 
and  Hazel  let  him.  And  how  did  he 
repeat  them  1  In  such  a  hearty,  lov- 
ing tone,  as  became  one  who  was 
about  to  follow,  and  all  this  but  a 
short  leave-taking.  So  uttered,  for 
the  living  as  well  as  the  dead,  those 
immortal  words  had  a  strange  signifi- 
cance and  beauty. 

And  presently  a  tender,  silvery 
voice  came  down  to  mingle  with  the 
deep  and  solemn  tones  of  the  male 
mourners.  It  was  Helen  Rolleston. 
She  had  watched  most  of  their  move- 
ments unseen  herself,  and  now,  stand- 
ing at  the  edge  of  the  ravine,  and 
looking  down  on  them,  uttered  a  soft 
l>ut  thrilling  amen  to  every  prayer. 
When  it  was  over,  and  the  men  pre- 
pared to  fill  in  the  grave,  she  spoke 
to  Weleh  in  an  undertone,  and  begged 
leave  to  pay  her  trilnite  first;  and, 
with  this,    she  detached   her  apron, 


FOUL  PLAY. 


93 


and  held  it  out  to  them.  Hazel  ea- 
sily climbed  up  to  her,  and  found  her 
apron  was  full  of  sweet-smelling  bark 
and  aromatic  leaves,  whose  fragrance 
filled  the  air. 

"  I  want  you  to  strew  these  over 
his  poor  remains,"  she  said.  "  O, 
not  common  earth !  lie  saved  our 
lives.  And  his  last  words  were,  '  I 
love  you,  Tom.'  O  dear,  0  dear,  O 
dear  !  "  And  with  that  she  gave  him 
the  apron,  and  turned  her  head  away 
to  hide  her  tears. 

Hiizel  blessed  her  for  the  thought, 
which,  indeed,  none  but  a  lady  would 
have  had ;  and  Welch  and  he,  with 
the  tears  in  their  eyes,  strewed  the 
spicy  leaves  first ;  and  soon  a  ridge  of 
shingle  neatly  bound  with  sea-weed 
marked  the  sailor's  grave. 

Hazel's  next  anxiety,  and  that  a 
pressing  one,  was  to  provide  shelter 
for  the  delicate  girl  and  the  sick  man, 
whom  circumstances  had  placed  under 
his  care.  He  told  Miss  Rollcston 
Welch  and  he  were  going  to  cross  the 
bay  again,  and  would  she  be  good 
enough  to  meet  them  at  the  bend  of 
the  river  where  she  would  find  four 
trees  1  She  nodded  her  head  and 
took  that  road  accordingly.  Hazel 
rowed  eastward  across  the  bay,  and, 
it  being  now  high  water,  he  got  the 
bout  into  the  river  itself  near  the  edge 
of  the  shore,  and,  as  this  river  had 
worn  a  channel,  he  contrived  with 
the  boat-hook  to  propel  the  boat  up 
the  stream,  to  an  angle  in  the  bank 
within  forty  yards  of  the  four  trees. 
He  could  get  no  farther,  the  sti'cam 
being  now  not  only  shallow,  but 
blocked  here  and  there  with  great 
and  rough  fragments  of  stone.  Hazel 
pushed  the  boat  into  the  angle  out  of 
the  current,  and  moored  her  fast.  He 
and  Welch  then  got  ashore,  and  Miss 
Eolleston  was  standing  at  the  four 
trees.  He  went  to  her  and  said  en- 
thusiasticall}',  "  This  is  to  be  your 
house.     Is  it  not  a  beautiful  site  i  " 

"  Yes,  it  is  a  beautiful  site,  but  — 
forgive  me  —  I  really  don't  see  the 
house,"  was  her  reply. 


"  But  you  see  the  frame-work." 

Helen  looked  all  about,  and  then 
said,  ruefully,  "  I  suppose  I  am  blind, 
sir,  or  else  you  are  dreaming,  for  I  see 
nothing  at  all." 

'•  Why,  here  's  a  roof  ready  made, 
and  the  frame  of  a  wall.  We  have 
only  to  wattle-a  screen  between  these 
four  uprights." 

"  Only  to  wattle  a  screen  !  But  I 
don't  know  what  wattling  a  screen  is. 
Who  does  ? " 

"  Wh}-,  you  get  some  of  the  canes 
that  grow  a  little  farther  up  the  river, 
and  a  certain  long  wiry  grass  I  have 
marked  down,  and  then  you  fix  and 
weave  till  you  make  a  screen  from 
tree  to  tree ;  this  could  be  patched 
with  wet  clay ;  I  know  where  there  is 
plenty  of  that.  Meantime  see  what  is 
done  to  our  hands.  The  crown  of 
this  great  pidm-tree  lies  at  the  south- 
ern aperture  of  your  house,  and  blocks 
it  entirely  up  :  that  will  keep  off  the 
only  cold  wind,  the  south  wind,  from 
you  to-night.  Then  look  at  these 
long,  spiky  leaves  interlaced  over  your 
head.  (These  trees  are  screw-pines.) 
There  is  a  roof  ready  made.  You 
must  have  another  roof  underneath 
that,  but  it  will  do  for  a  day  or  two." 

"  But  you  will  wattle  the  screen 
directly,"  said  Helen.  "  Begin  at 
once,  please.  I  am  anxious  to  see  a 
screen  wattled." 

"  Well,"  said  Welch,  who  had 
joined  them,  "  landsmen  are  queer 
tblk,  the  best  of  'em.  Why,  miss,  it 
would  take  him  a  week  to  screen  you 
with  rushes  and  reeds,  and  them  sort 
of  weeds  ;  and  I  'd  do  it  in  half  an 
hour,  if  I  was  the  Tom  Welch  I  used 
to  be.  Why,  there  's  spare  canvas 
enough  in  the  boat  to  go  between 
these  four  trees  breast  high,  and  then 
there  's  the  foresel  besides  ;  the  main- 
sel  is  all  you  and  me  shall  want,  sir." 

"  O,  excuse  me,"  said  Miss  Eolles- 
ton, "  1  will  not  be  sheltered  at  the 
expense  of  my  friends." 

"  Welch,  you  are  a  trump,"  said 
Hazel,  an;!  ran  off  for  the  spare  can- 
vas. He  brought  it  and  the  carpen- 
ter's basket  of  tools.     They  went  to 


94 


FOUL  PLAY. 


work,  and  Miss  Rollcston  insisted  on 
taking  part  in  it.  Finding  her  so  dis- 
posed, Hazel  said  tliat  they  had  better 
divide  tiieir  labors,  since  the  time  was 
short.  Accordingly  he  took  the  axe 
and  chopped  oft'  u  great  many  scales 
of  the  palm-tree,  and  lighted  a  great 
fire  between  the  trees,  while  the  other 
two  worked  on  the  canvas. 

"  This  is  to  dry  the  soil  as  well  as 
cook  our  provisions,"  said  he  ;  "  and 
now  I  must  go  and  find  food.  Is 
there  anything  you  fancy  1  "  He 
turned  his  head  from  the  fire  he  was 
lighting  and  addressed  this  question 
both  to  Welch  and  Miss  Ilollcston. 

Miss  RoUeston  stared  at  this  ques- 
tion, then  smiled,  and,  in  the  true 
spirit  of  a  lady,  said,  "  I  think  I 
should  like  a  good  large  cocoa-nut,  if 
you  can  find  one."  She  felt  sure  there 
was  no  other  eatable  thing  in  the 
whole  island. 

"  I  wants  a  cabbage,"  said  Welch, 
in  a  loud  voice. 

"O  Mr.  Welch,  we  are  not  at 
home,"  said  Miss  Rolleston,  blushing 
at  the  prepostei-ous  demand. 

"No,  miss,  in  Capericorn.  Where- 
by we  sha'  n't  have  to  pay  nothing  for 
this  here  cabbage.  I  '11  tell  ye,  miss  : 
when  a  sailor  comes  ashore  he  always 
goes  in  for  green  vegetables,  for  why, 
he  has  eaten  so  much  junk  and  bis- 
cuit, nature  sings  out  for  greens.  Me 
and  my  shipmates  was  paid  off  at 
Portsmouth  last  year,  and  six  of  us 
agreed  to  dine  together  and  each  or- 
der his  dish.  Blest  if  six  boiled  legs 
of  mutton  did  not  come  up  smoking 
hot  :  three  was  with  cabbage,  and 
three  with  turmots.  Mine  was  with 
turmots.  Bnt  then  I  don't  a<k,  so 
nigh  the  Line :  don't  ye  go  to  tiiink, 
because  I  'm  sick,  and  the  lady  and 
you  is  so  kind  to  me,  and  to  him  that 
is  a  waiting  outside  them  there  shoals 
for  me,  as  I  'm  onreasonablc  ;  turmots 
I  wisli  you  both,  and  plenty  of  'cm, 
when  some  whaler  gets  driven  out  of 
her  course  and  picks  you  u]),  and  car- 
ries you  into  northern  latitudes  where 
turmots  grow ;  l)ut  cabbage  is  my 
right,  cabbage  is  my  due,  being  paid 


off  in  a  manner  ;  for  the  ship  is  foun- 
dered and  I  'm  ashore  :  cabbasie  I  ask 
for,  as  a  seaman  that  has  done  his 
duty,  and  a  man  thatwon'i  live  to  eat 
many  more  of  'em  ;  and"  (losing  his 
temper),  "  if  you  are  the  man  I 
take  you  for,  you  'II  run  and  fetch  me 
a  cabbageficsh  from  the  tree  "  (recov- 
ering his  temper).  "  I  know  I  did  n't 
ought  to  ax  a  parson  to  shin  up  a  tree 
for  me  :  but,  Lord  bless  you,  there  ain't 
no  sarcy  little  boys  a  looking  on,  and 
here  's  a  poor  fellow  mostly  dying  for 
it." 

Miss  Rolleston  looked  at  Mr.  Ha- 
zel with  alarm  in  every  feature  ;  and 
whi-:pered,  "  Cabbage  from  the  tree. 
Is  he  wandering  !  " 

Hazel  smiled.  "No,"  said  he. 
"  He  lias  picked  up  a  fable  of  these 
seas,  that  there  is  a  tree  which  grows 
cabbages." 

Welch  heard  him  and  said,  with  due 
warmth,  "  Of  course  there  is  a  tree 
on  all  these  islands  that  grows  cab- 
bages ;  that  was  known  a  hundred 
years  before  you  was  born,  arid  ship- 
mates of  mine  have  eaten  them." 

"  Excuse  Tue,  what  those  old  Ad- 
mirals and  Buccaneers,  that  set  the 
legend  afloat,  were  so  absurd  as  to 
call  a  cabbage,  and  your  shipmates 
may  have  eaten  for  one,  is  nothing  on 
earth  but  the  last  year's  growaii  of  the 
palm-tree." 

"  Palm-tree  be "  said  Welch  ; 

and  thereupon  ensued  a  hot  argu- 
ment, which  Helen's  good  sense  cut 
short. 

"  Mr.  Hazel,"  said  she,  "  can  you 
by  any  possibility  get  our  poor  friend 
the  thi)i(]  he  wants?  " 

"  O,  f/i(U  is  quite  within  the  bounds 
of  possibility,"  said  Hazel,  dryly. 

"  Well,  then,  su])pose  you  begin  by 
getting  him  the  t/iiitij.  Then  I  will 
])oil  the  thing,  and  he  will  cat  the  ihinr/ ; 
and  after  all  that  it  will  be  time  to 
argue  about  the  name  we  shall  give  to 
the  thing." 

The  good  sense  of  this  struck  Mr. 
Hazel  forcibly.  He  started  off  at 
once,  armed  with  the  axe,  and  a  net 
bag  Welch  had  made  since  he  became 


FOUL  PLAY. 


95 


unfit  for  heavy  labor  :  he  called  back 
to  them  as  he  went  to  put  the  pots  on. 
Welch  and  Miss  KoUeston  com- 
plied ;  and  then  the  sailor  showed  the 
lady  how  to  sew  sailor-wise,  driving 
tlie  large  needle  with  the  palm  of  the 
hand,  guarded  by  a  piece  of  leather. 
They  had  nailed  two  breadths  of  can- 
vas to  the  trees  on  the  north  and  west 
sides,  and  run  the  breadths  rapidly 
together ;  and  the  water  was  boiling 
and  bubbling  in  the  balers,  when  Miss 
RoUeston  uttered  a  scream,  for  Hazel 
came  running  over  the  prostrate  palm- 
tree  as  if  it  was  a  proper  bridge,  and 
lighted  in  the  midst  of  them. 

"  Lot  one,"  said  he  cheerfully,  and 
produced  from  his  net  some  limes, 
two  cocoa-nuts,  and  a  land-turtle ; 
from  this  last  esculent  Miss  Rolleston 
withdrew  with  undisguised  horror, 
and  it  was  in  vain  he  assured  her  it 
was  a  great  delicacy. 

"  No  matter :  it  is  a  reptile.  0 
please  send  it  away." 

"  The  Queen  of  the  Island  reprieves 
you,"  said  he,  and  put  down  the  terra- 
pin, which  went  oft"  very  leisurely  for 
a  reprieved  reptile. 

Then  ILnzel  produced  a  fine  bream, 
which  he  had  found  struggling  in  a 
rock-pool,  the  tide  having  turned,  and 
three  sea  craytish,  bigger  than  any 
lobster.  He  chopped  their  heads  off 
outside,  and  threw  their  tails  into  the 
pots  ;  he  stuck  a  piece  of  pointed 
wood  through  the  bream,  and  gave  it 
to  Welch  to  toast;  but  AVelch  waved 
it  aside. 

"  I  see  no  cabbage,"  said  he,  grimly. 
"  O,    I   forgot :    but   that   is    soon 
found,"  said  Hazel.     "Here,  give  me 
the  fisli,  and  you  take  the  saw,  and  ex- 
amine the  head  of  this  palm-tree,  which 
lies  at  Miss  Rolleston's  door.     Saw 
away  the  succulent  part  of  last  year's 
growth,  and  bring  it  here." 
Welch  got  up  slowly. 
"  I  '11  go  with  you,  Mr.  Welch," 
said  Miss  Rolleston. 

She  will  not  be  alone  with  me  for  a 
moment,  if  she  can  help  it,  thought 
Hazel,  and  sat  moody  by  the  fire.  But 
he  shook  off  his  sadness,  and  forced  I 


on  a  cheerful  look  the  moment  they 
came  back.  They  brought  with  them 
a  vegetable  very  like  the  heart  of  a 
cabbage,  only  longer  and  whiter. 

"  There,"  said  Welch,  "  what  d'ye 
call  that?  " 

"  The  last  year's  growth  of  the 
palm,"  said  Hazel,  calmly. 

This  vegetable  was  cut  in  two  and 
put  into  the  pots. 

"  There,  take  the  toasting-fork 
again,"  said  Hazel  to  Welch,  and 
drew  out  from  his  net  tiiree  huge 
scallop-shells.  "  Soup-plates,"  said 
he,  and  washed  them  in  the  running 
stream  :  then  put  thein  before  the  fire 
to  dry. 

While  the  fish  and  vegetable  were 
cooking,  he  went  and  cut  off  some  of 
the  leafy,  pinnated  branches  of  tlie 
palm  tree,  and  fastened  them  horizon- 
tally above  the  strips  of  canvas.  Each 
palm-branch  traversed  a  whole  side  of 
the  bower.  This  closed  the  northern 
and  western  sides. 

On  the  southern  side,  the  prostrate 
palm-tree,  on  striking  the  ground,  had 
so  crushed  its  boughs  and  leaves  to- 
gether as  to  make  a  thick  wall  of 
foliage. 

Then  he  took  to  making  forks  ;  and 
primitive  ones  they  were.  He  selected 
a  bough  the  size  of  a  thick  walking- 
stick  ;  sawed  it  off"  the  tree :  sawed  a 
piece  six  inches  long  oft'  it,  peeled  that, 
split  it  in  four,  and,  with  his  knife, 
gave  each  piece  three  points,  by  merely- 
tapering  off  and  serrating  one  end ; 
and  so  he  made  a  fork  a  minute.  Then 
he  brought  all  the  rugs  and  things 
from  the  boat,  and,  the  ground  being 
now  thoroughly  dried  by  the  fire, 
placed  them  for  seats;  gave  each  per- 
son a  large  leaf  for  a  plate,  besides  a 
scallop-shell ;  and  served  out  supper. 
It  was  eaten  with  rare  appetite ;  the 
palm-tree  vegetable  in  particular  was 
delicious,  tasting  between  a  cabbage 
and  a  cocoa-nut. 

When  they  had  supped.  Hazel  re- 
moved the  plates  and  went  to  the  boat. 
He  returned,  dragging  the  fore-mast 
and  foresail,  which  were  small,  and 
called  Welch  out.      They  agreed  to 


96 


FOUL  PLAY. 


rij;  the  mainsail  tarpaulin-wise  and 
sleep  in  tiie  boat.  Accordingly  they 
niade  themselves  very  bii-^y  screening 
the  east  side  of  Miss  KoUeston's  new 
abode  with  the  foresail,  and  fastened 
a  loop  and  drove  a  nail  into  the  tree, 
and  looped  the  sail  to  it,  tiien  sudden- 
ly bade  her  good  night  in  cheerful 
tones,  and  were  gone  in  a  moment, 
leaving  her  to  iicr  repose,  as  they  im- 
agined. Hazel,  in  particular,  having 
used  all  his  ingenuity  to  secure  her 
personal  comfort,  was  now  too  bent 
on  sliowing  her  the  most  delicate 
respect  and  forbearance  to  think  of 
anything  else.  But,  justly  counting 
on  the  delicacy,  he  had  forgotten  the 
timidity,  of  her  sex,  and  her  first 
night  in  the  island  was  a  terribly  try- 
ing one. 

Thrice  she  opened  her  mouth  to 
call  Welch  and  Hazel  back,  but  could 
not.  Yet,  when  their  footsteps  were 
out  of  hearing,  she  would  have  given 
the  world  to  have  them  between  her 
and  the  perils  with  which  she  felt  her- 
self surrounded. 

Tigers  ;  Snakes  ;  Scorpions  ;  Sav- 
ages !  wiiat  would  become  of  her 
during  the  long  night? 

She  sat  and  cowered  before  the 
hot  embers.  She  listened  to  what 
seemed  the  angry  roar  of  the  sea. 
What  with  the  stillness  of  the  night 
and  her  sharpened  senses  she  heard  it 
all  roiuid  the  island.  She  seemed 
environed  with  peril,  and  yet  sur- 
rouudrd  by  desolation.  No  one  at 
hand  to  save  her  in  time  from  a  wild 
beast.  No  one  anywhere  near  except 
a  sick  sailor  and  one  she  would  al- 
most rather  die  than  call  singly  to  her 
aid,  for  he  bad  once  told  her  he  loved 
her. 

"0  papa!  0  Arthur!"  she  cried, 
"  arc  you  praying  for  your  poor 
Helen  ''.  "  Then  she  wejit  and  prayed  ; 
and  half  nerved  herself  to  beur  tiie 
worst.  Finally,  her  vague  fears  com- 
pletely overmastered  her.  Then  she 
had  recourse  to  a  stratagem  that  be- 
longs to  her  sex,  —  she  hid  herself 
from  the  danger,  and  the  danger  from 
her  :  she  covered  herself  face  and  all, 


and  so  lay  trembling,  and  longing  for 
the  day. 

At  the  first  streak  of  dawn  she  fled 
from  her  place  of  torture,  and  after 
])lungii)g  her  face  and  hands  in  tlie 
river,  wiueh  did  her  a  world  of  good, 
she  went  otf,  and  entered  the  jungle, 
and  searc'hed  it  closely,  so  far  as  she 
could  penetrate  it.  Soon  she  heard 
"  Miss  Kolleston  '  called  in  anxious 
tones.  But  she  tossed  her  little  head, 
and  revenged  herself  for  her  night  of 
agony  by  not  replying. 

However,  Nature  took  her  in  hand ; 
im[)erious  hunger  drew  her  back  to 
her  late  place  of  torture ;  and  there 
she  found  a  fire,  and  ILazcl  cooking 
cray-fish.  She  ate  the  cray-fish  heart- 
ily, and  drank  cocoa-nut  milk  out  of 
half  a  cocoa-nut,  which  the  ingenious 
Hazul  had  already  sawn,  polished,  and 
mounted  for  her. 

After  that.  Hazel's  whole  day  was 
occupied  in  stripping  a  tree  th;it  stood 
on  the  high  western  promontory  of 
the  bay,  and  building  uj)  the  materials 
of  a  bonfire  a  few  yards  from  it,  that, 
if  any  whaler  should  stray  that  way, 
they  migiit  not  be  at  a  loss  for  means 
to  attract  her  attention. 

Welch  was  very  ill  all  day,  and 
Miss  Rolleston  nursed  him.  He  got 
about  towards  evening,  and  Miss 
Kolleston  asked  him,  rather  timidly, 
if  he  could  put  hemp  a  bell-roi)e. 

"  Why,  yes,  miss,"  said  Welch, 
"  that  is  easy  enough  ;  but  I  don't  see 
no  bell." 

0,  she  did  not  want  a  bell,  —  she 
only  wanted  a  bell-rope. 

Hazel  came  up  during  this  conver- 
sation, and  she  then  gave  her  reason. 

"  Because,  then,  if  I\Ir.  Welch  is 
ill  in  the  night,  and  wants  me,  I  could 
come  to  him.  Or  —  "  finding  herself 
getting  near  the  real  reason  she 
sto])pcd  short. 

"Or  what?"  inquired  Hazel,  ea- 
gerly. 

She  replied  to  Welch.  "When 
tigers  and  Things  come  to  me,  I  can 
let  you  know,  Mr.  Welch,  if  you  have 
any  curiosity  about  the  result  of  their 
visit." 


FOUL  PLAY. 


97 


"Tigers  !  "  said  Hazel,  in  ansv/erto 
tliis  side  slap  ;  "  there  are  no  tigers 
here  ;  no  large  animals  of  prey  exist 
in  the  Pacitie." 

"  What  makes  you  think  that  ?  " 

"  It  is  notorious :  naturalists  are 
agreed." 

"  But  I  am  not.  I  heard  noises  all 
night.  And  little  I  expected  that 
anything  of  me  would  be  left  this 
morning,  except,  perhaps,  my  back 
hair.  Mr.  Welch,  you  are  clever  at 
rigging  things,  —  that  is  what  you 
call  it,  —  and  so  please  rig  me  a  bell- 
rope,  then  I  shall  not  be  eaten  alive 
without  creating  some  Utile  disturb- 
ance." 

"  I  '11  do  it,  miss,"  said  Welch, 
"  this  very  night." 

Hazel  said  nothing,  but  pondei'cd. 
Accordingly,  that  very  evening  a  piece 
of  stout  twine,  with  a  stone  at  the  end 
of  it,  hung  down  from  the  roof  of 
Helen's  house ;  -ind  this  twine  clove 
the  air,  until  it  reached  a  ring  u]iou 
the  mainmast  of  the  cutter  ;  thence  it 
descendi-'d,  and  was  to  be  made  flist 
to  sometliing  or  somebody.  The 
young  lady  inquired  no  further.  The 
very  sight  of  this  bell-rope  was  a  great 
comfort  to  her ;  it  reunited  her  to  civ- 
ilized life. 

That  night  she  lay  down,  and 
quaked  considerably  less.  Yet  she 
woke  several  times  ;  and  an  hour  be- 
fore daylight  she  heard  distinctly  a 
noise  that  made  her  flesh  creep.  It 
was  like  the  snoring  of  some  great 
animals.  This  horrible  sound  was 
faint  and  distant ;  but  she  heard  it 
between  the  roll  of  the  waves,  and  tliat 
showed  it  was  not  the  sea  roaring  ; 
she  hid  herself  in  her  nigs,  and  cow- 
ered till  daybreak.  A  score  of  times 
.she  was  minded  to  pull  her  bell-rope  ; 
but  always  a  womanly  feeling,  strong 
as  her  love  of  life,  withheld  her. 
'"  Time  to  pull  that  bell-rope  when 
the  danger  was  present  or  imminent," 
she  thought  to  herself.  "  The  Thing 
will  come  smelling  about  before  it  at- 
tacks me,  and  then  I  will  pull  the 
bell  "  ;  and  so  she  passed  an  hour  of 
agonv. 

7 


Next  morning,  at  daybreak,  Hazel 
met  her  just  issuing  from  her  hut,  and 
pointing  to  his  net  told  her  he  was 
going  to  forage  ;  and  would  she  be 
good  enough  to  make  the  lire  and  have 
boiling  water  ready  ?  he  was  sorry  to 
trouble  her ;  but  poor  Welch  was 
worse  this  morning.  Miss  Rolleston 
cut  short  his  excuses.  "  Pray  do  not 
take  me  for  a  child  ;  of  course  I  will 
light  the  fire,  and  boil  the  water. 
Only  I  have  no  lucifer  matches." 

"  Here  are  two,"  said  he.  "  I  car- 
ry the  box,  wrapped  in  oil-skin  :  for 
if  anything  happen  to  thejn,  Heaven 
help  us." 

He  crossed  the  prostrate  palm-tree, 
and  dived  into  the  wood.  It  was  a 
large  beautiful  wood,  and,  except  at 
the  western  edge,  the  trees  were  all  of 
the  palm-tree  genus,  but  contained 
several  species,  including  the  cocoa- 
nut  tree.  The  turf  ran  under  these 
trees  for  about  forty  yards  and  then 
died  graduallv  away  under  the  same 
thick  shade  which  destroyed  all  other 
vegetation  in  this  wood,  and  made  it 
so  easy  to  see  and  travel. 

He  gathered  a  few  cocoa-nuts  that 
had  burst  out  of  their  ripe  pods  and 
fallen  to  the  ground  ;  and  ran  on  till 
he  reached  a  belt  of  trees  and  shrubs, 
that  bounded  the  palm  forest.  Here 
his  progress  w'as  no  longer  easy :  but  ho 
found  trees  covered  with  a  small  fruit 
resembling  quinces  ineverj^  particular, 
of  look,  taste,  and  smell,  and  that 
made  him  persevere,  since  it  was  most 
important  to  learn  the  useful  products 
of  the  island.  Presently  he  burst 
through  some  brushwood  into  a 
swampy  bottom  surrounded  by  low 
trees,  and  instantly  a  dozen  large 
birds  of  the  Osprey  kind  rose  flapping 
into  the  air  like  windmills  rising.  He 
was  quite  startled  by  the  whirring  and 
flapping,  and  not  a  little  amazed  at 
the  appearance  of  the  place.  Here 
was  a  very  charnel-house ;  so  thick 
lay  the  shells,  skeletons,  and  loose 
bones  of  fish.  Here  too  he  found 
three  terrapin  killed  but  not  eaten  : 
and  also  some  fish,  more  or  less 
Decked.     "Ahal  my  worthy  execu- 


98 


FOUL   PLAY. 


tioncrs,  muchoblisrcd,"  said  he  :  "you 
have  saved  me  that  jol) "  :  and  into 
the  bay:  went  the  terrapin,  and  two 
plump  fish,  hut  slightly  mutilated. 
Before  lie  had  gone  many  yards,  haek 
came  the  sailing  wings,  and  the  birds 
settled  again  before  his  eyes.  The 
rest  of  the  low  wood  was  hut  thin, 
and  he  soon  emerged  upon  the  opi-n 
country ;  but  it  was  most  unpromis- 
ing ;  and  fitter  for  geese  than  men  :  a 
vast  sedgy  swamp  with  water  in  the 
middle,  thin  fringes  of  great  fern- 
trees,  and  here  and  there  a  disconso- 
late tiec  like  a  weci)ing-willow,  and  at 
the  end  of  this  lake  and  swamp, 
which  all  together  formed  a  triangle, 
was  a  barren  hill  without  a  blade  of 
vegetation  on  it,  and  a  sort  of  jagged 
summit,  volcanic  !  Hazel  did  not  at 
all  like  the  look  of. 

Somewiiat  dismayed  at  finding  so 
large  a  slice  of  the  island  worthless, 
he  returned  through  the  wood,  guid- 
ing himself  due  west  by  his  pocket- 
compass,  and  so  got  down  to  the 
shore,  whore  he  found  scallops  and 
crayfish  in  incredible  abirndancc.  Lit- 
erally, ho  had  only  to  go  into  the  wa- 
ter and  gather  them.  But  "  enough" 
is  as  good  as  "  a  feast."  He  ran  to  the 
pots  with  his  miscellaneous  bag,  and 
was  not  received  according  to  his  de- 
serts. Miss  Rolieston  told  him,  a  lit- 
tle severely,  the  water  had  been  boil- 
ing a  long  time.  Then  he  jjroduced 
his  provender,  by  way  of  excuse. 

"  Tortoises  again  !  "  said  she,  and 
shuddered  visibly. 

But  the  quinces  and  cocoa-nuts 
were  graciously  received.  Welch, 
however,  cried  out  for  cabbage. 

"  What  am  I  to  do  ?  "  said  Hazel. 
"  For  every  such  cabbage  a  king 
must  die." 

"  Goodness  me !  " 

"  A  monarch  of  the  grove." 

"  O,  a  King  Log.  Why,  then 
down  with  them  all,  of  course  ;  sooner 
than  dear  jNIr.  Welch  shall  go  with- 
out his  cabbage." 

He  cast  a  look  of  admiration  on 
her,  which  she  avoided,  and  very  soon 
his    axe  was  heard  ringing   in   the 


wood  hard  by.  Then  came  a  loud 
crash.  Then  another.  Hazel  came 
running  with  the  cabbaye,  and  a 
cocoa-pod.  "  There,"  said  he,  "  and 
there  are  a  hundred  more  about. 
Whilst  you  cook  that  for  Welch,  I 
will  store  them."  Accordingly  he 
returned  to  the  wood  with  his  net, 
and  soon  came  back  with  five  pods  in 
it,  each  as  big  as  a  large  pumpkin. 

He  chucked  these  one  at  a  time 
across  the  river,  and  then  went  for 
more.  It  took  him  all  the  afternoon 
to  get  all  the  pods  across  the  river. 
He  was  obliged  to  sit  down  and 
rest. 

But  a  suggestion  of  Helen's  soon 
set  him  to  work  again. 

"  You  were  kind  enough  to  say  you 
would  store  these  for  mc.  Could  you 
not  store  them  so  as  to  wall  out  those 
terrible  beasts  with  them  ?  " 

"  What  terrible  beasts  ?  " 

"  That  roar  so  all  night,  and  don't 
eat  us,  only  because  they  have  not 
found  out  we  are  here  yet.  But  they 
will." 

"  I  deny  their  existence,"  said 
Hazel.  "  But  I  '11  wall  them  out 
all  the  same,"  said  he. 

"  Pray  do,"  said  Helen.  "  Wall 
them  out  first,  and  disprove  them 
afterwards ;  I  shall  be  better  able  to 
believe  they  don't  exist,  when  they 
are  well  walled  out, —  much." 

Hazel  went  to  work,  and  with  her 
assistance  laid  cocoa-pods  two  wide 
and  three  deep,  outside  the  northern 
and  western  sides  of  her  leafy  bower, 
and  he  promised  to  complete  the  walls 
by  the  same  means  in  two  days 
more. 

They  all  then  supped  together,  and, 
to  oblige  him,  she  ate  a  little  of  the 
terrapin,  and,  when  they  parted  for 
the  night,  she  thanked  him,  and  said,' 
with  a  deep  blush,  "  You  have  been  a 
good  friend  to  me  —  of  late." 

He  colored  high,  and  his  eyes 
sparkled  with  delight ;  and  she  no- 
ticed, and  almost  wished  she  had  kept 
her  jrratitude  to  herself 

That  night,  what  with  her  bell-rope 
and  her  little  bit  of  a  wall,  she  was 


FOUL  PLAY. 


99 


soraewhat  less  timorous,  and  weut  to 
sleep  early- 

But  even  in  sleep  she  was  watch- 
ful, and  she  was  awakened  by  a  slight 
sound  in  the  neigliborhood  of  the 
boat. 

She  lay  watching,  but  did  not  stir. 

Presently  she  heard  a  footstep. 

With  a  stifled  cry  she  bounded  up, 
and  her  first  impulse  was  to  rusli  out 
of  the  tent.  But  she  conquered  this, 
and,  gliding  to  the  south  side  of  her 
bower,  she  peered  throu;i:h  the  palm- 
leaves,  and  the  first  tiling  she  saw 
was  the  figure  of  a  man  standing  be- 
tween her  and  the  boat. 

She  drew  her  breath  hard.  The 
outline  of  the  man  was  somewhat  in- 
distinct. But  it  was  not  a  savage  :  the 
man  was  clothed ;  and  his  stature  be- 
trayed him. 

He  stood  still  for  some  time.  "  He 
is  listening  to  see  if  I  am  awake," 
said  Helen  to  herself 

The  figure  moved  towards  her 
bower. 

Then  all  in  a  moment  she  became 
another  woman.  She  did  not  rely 
on  her  bell-rope;  she  felt  it  was  fast 
to  nothing  that  could  help  her.  She 
looked  round  for  no  weapon ;  she 
trusted  to  herself  She  drew  herself 
hastily  up,  and  folded  her  arms;  her 
bosom  panted,  but  her  cheek  never 
paled.  Her  modesty  was  alarmed ; 
her  blood  was  up,  and  life  or  death 
were  notiiing  to  her. 

The  footsteps  came  nearer  ; '  they 
stopjied  at  her  door ,-  they  went  north  ; 
they  came  back  south.  The}'  kept 
her  in  this  high-wrought  attitude  for 
half  an  hour.  Then  they  retired 
softly ;  and,  when  they  were  gone,  she 
gave  way,  and  fell  on  her  knees,  and 
began  to  cry  hysterically.  Then  she 
got  calmer,  and  then  she  wondered 
and  puzzled  herself;  but  she  slept  no 
more  that  night. 

In  the  morning  she  found  that  the 
fire  was  lighted  on  a  sort  of  shelf 
close  to  the  boat.  Mr.  Hazel  had  cut 
the  shelf  and  lighted  the  fire  there  for 
Welch's  sake,  who  had  complained 
of  cold  in  the  ni";ht. 


Whilst  Hazel  was  gone  for  the 
crayfish,  Welch  asked  Helen  to  go 
for  her  prayer-book.  She  brought  it 
directly,  and  turned  the  leaves  to  find 
the  prayers  for  the  sick.  But  she  was 
soon  undeceived  as  to  his  intention. 

"Sam"  had  it  wrote  down  liow 
the  Proserpine  was  foundered,  and  I 
should  like  to  lie  alongside  my  mess- 
mate on  that  there  paper,  as  well  as 
in  t'  other  place"  (meaning  the 
grave).  "Begin  as  Sam  did,  that 
this  is  my  last  word." 

"  O,  I  'ho])Q  not.  O  Mr.  Welch, 
pray  do  not  leave  me  !  " 

"  Well,  well  then,  never  mind  that; 
but  just  put  down  as  I  heard  Sam; 
and  his  dying  words,  tliat  the  parson 
took  down,  were  the  truth." 

"  I  have  written  that." 

"  And  that  the  two  holes  was  on 
her  port-side,  and  seven  foot  from  her 
starn-post ;  and  /  say  them  very 
augers  that  is  in  our  cutter  made 
them  holes.     Set  down  that." 

''  It  is  down." 

"  Then  I  '11  put  my  mark  under  it ; 
and  you  are  my  witness." 

Helen,  anxious  to  please  him  in 
everything,  showed  him  where  to  put 
his  mark.  He  did  so ;  and  she  signed 
her  name  as  his  witness. 

"And  now,  Mr.  Welch,"  said  she, 
"  do  not  you  fret  about  the  loss  of  the 
ship  ;  you  should  rather  think  how 
good  Providence  has  been  to  us  in 
saving  us  three  out  of  so  many  that 
sailed  in  that  poor  ship.  That 
Wylie  was  a  wicked  man ;  but  he 
is  drowned,  or  starved,  no  doubt, 
and  there  is  an  end  of  him.  You 
are  alive,  and  we  are  all  three  to  see 
Old  England  again.  But  to  live, 
you  must  eat ;  and  so  now  do  pray 
make  a  good  breakfast  to-day.  Tell 
me  what  you  can  fancy.  A  cab- 
bage ? " 

"  What,  you  own  it  is  a  cabbage  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  do,"  said  Helen, 
coaxing.  "  You  must  excuse  Mr. 
Hazel ;  these  learned  men  are  so 
crotchety  in  some  things,  and  go  by 
books ;  but  you  and  I  go  by  our 
senses,  and  to  us  a  cabbage  is  a  cab- 


100 


FOUL   PLAY. 


bagje,  prow  where  it  will.  "Will  you 
have  one  1 " 

"  No,  miss,  not  this  morning. 
What  I  wants  this  morniny  very 
bad,  indoeil,  it  is, — I  wants  a  drink 
made  of  the  swect-snicUing  leaves, 
like  as  you  strewed  over  my  mes.s- 
mate,  —  the  Lord  iu  heaven  bless  you 
for  it." 

"  O  ^Ir.  Welch,  that  is  a  curious 
fancy;  but  you  shall  not  ask  me 
twice  for  anytiiing ;  tlie  jungle  is  full 
of  them,  and  I  '11  fetch  you  some  in 
five  minutes.  So  you  must  boil  the 
water." 

She  scudded  away  to  the  jungle, 
and  soon  returned  with  some  aromatic 
leaves.  Whilst  tiiey  were  infusing, 
Ihizcl  came  up,  and,  on  being  in- 
formed of  Welch's  fancy,  made  no 
opposition  ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  said 
that  sucii  men  had  sometimes  very 
happy  inspirations.  He  tasted  it, 
however,  and  said  the  smell  was  the 
best  part  of  it  in  his  opinion.  He 
then  |)ut  it  aside  to  cool  for  the  sick 
man's  use. 

They  ate  their  usual  breakfast,  and 
then  Welch  sipped  his  spiced  tea,  as 
he  called  it.  Morning  and  afternoon 
he  drank  copious  draughts  of  it,  and 
seemed  to  get  suddenly  better,  antl 
told  tliein  not  to  hang  ahont  him  any 
longer ;  but  go  to  their  work  :  he  was 
all  right  now. 

To  humor  him  they  went  off  iu 
different  directions ;  Hazel  with  his 
axe  to  level  cocoa-nut  trees  :  and 
Helen  to  search  for  fruits  in  the 
jungle. 

She  came  back  in  about  an  hour, 
very  proud  of  some  pods  she  had 
found  with  nutmegs  inside  them. 
She  ran  to  Welch.  He  was  not  in 
the  boat.  She  saw  his  waistcoat, 
however,  folded  and  lying  on  the 
thwart:  so  she  knew  he  could  not  l)e 
far  off,  and  concluded  he  was  in  her 
bower.  But  he  was  not  there;  and 
she  called  to  Mr.  Hazel.  He  came  to 
the  side  of  tiie  river  laden  with  cocoa- 
nuts. 

"  Is  he  with  vou  ?  "  said  Helen. 

"Who?  Welch  !     No." 


"  Well,  then,  he  is  not  here.  O 
dear  !  something  is  the  matter." 

Hazel  came  across  directly.  And 
they  both  began  to  run  anxiouslv  to 
every  part  whence  they  could  com- 
mand a  view  to  any  distance. 

They  could  not  sec  kim  anywhere, 
and  met  with  blank  faces  at  the 
bower. 

Then  Helen  made  a  discovery. 

This  very  day,  while  hanging  about 
the  place.  Hazel  had  torn  u])  from 
the  edge  of  the  river  an  old  trunk, 
whose  roots  had  been  loosened  l)y  the 
water  washing  away  the  earth' that 
held  them,  and  this  stump  he  had  set 
up  in  her  liower  for  a  table,  after  saw- 
ing the  roots  down  into  legs.  Weil, 
on  the  smooth  part  of  this  table  lay  a 
little  ])ilc  of  money,  a  ring  with  a  large 
pearl  in  it,  and  two  gold  ear-rings,  Hel- 
en had  often  noticed  in  Welch's  cars. 

She  pointed  at  these  and  turned 
pale.  Then,  suddenly  waving  her 
hand  to  Hazel  to  follow  her,  she  darted 
out  of  the  bower,  and,  in  a  moment, 
she  was  at  the  boat. 

There  she  found,  beside  his  waist- 
coat, his  knite,  and  a  little  pile  of 
money,  placed  carefully  on  the  thwart; 
and,  underneath  it,  his  jacket  rolled 
up,  and  his  shoes  and  sailor's  caj),  all 
put  neatly  and  in  order. 

Hazel  ibund  her  looking  at  them. 
He  began  to  have  vague  misgivings, 
''  What  does  this  mean  ? "  lie  said, 
faintly. 

"  '  AVhat  does  it  mean  !  '  "  cried 
Helen,  in  aqony.  "  iJon't  you  see? 
A  Legacy^ !  The  poor  thing  has 
divided  ids  little  all.  O  my  heart ! 
What  has  become  of  him  1  Then, 
with  one  of  those  inspirations  iicr  sex 
have,  she  cried,  "  Ah !  Cooper's 
grave  !  " 

Hazel,  though  not  so  quick  as  she 
was,  caught  her  meaning  at  a  word, 
and  flew  down  tiie  slope  to  the  sea- 
shore. The  tide  was  out :  a  long 
irregular  track  of  footsteps  indentetl 
the  sand.  He  stop])cd  a  moment  and 
looked  at  them.  Tiiey  pointed  to- 
wards tinit  cleft  where  the  grave  was. 
He  followed  them  all  across  the  saud. 


FOUL  PLAY. 


101 


They  entered  the  cleft,  and  did  not 
return.  Full  of  lieavv  foreboding  he 
ruslied  into  the  cleft. 

Yes ;  his  arms  hanging  on  each 
side  of  the  grave,  and  his  cheek  hxid 
gentlv  on  it,  there  hvy  Tom  Welch, 
with  a  loving  smile  on  his  dead  face. 
Only  a  man  ;  yet  faithful  as  a  dog. 

liazel  went  back  slowly,  and  cry 
ing.  Of  all  m;'n  living,  he  couhl 
best  appreciate  Eidelity,  and  mourn 
its  fate. 

But,  as  he  drew  near  Helen,  he 
dried  his  eyes  ;  for  it  was  his  duty  to 
comfort  her. 

She  had  at  first  endeavored  to 
foHow  him;  but  after  a  few  steps  her 
knees  smote  together,  and  she  was 
fain  to  sit  down  on  the  grassy  sloi^c 
tint  overlooked  the  sea. 

The  sun  was  setting  huge  and 
red  over  that  vast  and  peacefid  sea. 

She  put  her  hands  to  her  head, 
and,  sick  at  heart,  looked  heavily  at 
that  glorious  and  peaceful  sight. 
Plazel  came  up  to  her.  She  looked 
at  his  face,  and  that  look  was  enough 
for  her.  She  rocked  herself  gently  to 
and  fro. 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  in  a  broken  voice : 
"  he  was  there,  — quite  dead." 

He  sat  gently  down  by  her  side, 
and  looked   at  that  setting   sun  and  | 
illimitable  ocean,  and  his   heart  felt 
deadly    sad.     "He    is    gone, — and 
we  are  alone,  —  on  this  island." 

The  man  said  this  in  one  .sense 
only  :  but  the  woman  heai'd  it  in 
more  than  one. 

Alone  ! 

She  glanced  timidly  round  at  him, 
and,  without  risin^■,  edged  a  little 
away  from  him,  and  wept  in  silence. 


CHAPTER   XXVL 

After  a  long  silence.  Hazel 
asked  her  in  a  low  voice  if  she  could 
be  there  in  half  an  hour.  She  said 
yes,  in  the  same  tone,  but  without 
turning  her  head.  On  reaching  the 
graves,  she   found    that    Hazel   had 


spared  her  a  sad  sight ;  nothing  re- 
mained but  to  perform  the  service. 
When  it  was  over  she  went  slowly  away 
in  deep  distress  on  more  accounts  than 
one.  In  due  course  Hazel  came  to  her 
bower,  but  she  was  not  there.  Then 
he  lighted  the  tire,  and  prepared 
everything  for  supper;  and  he  was 
so  busy,  atid  iter  foot  so  light,  he  did 
not  hear  her  come.  But  by  and  by, 
lifting  his  head,  he  saw  her  looking 
wistfully  at  him,  as  if  she  would 
read  his  soul  in  his  minutest  actions. 
He  started  and  brightened  all  over 
with  pleasure  at  the  sudden  sight  of 
her,  and  said  eagerly,  "  Your  sujjper 
is  quite  ready." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  she,  sadly 
and  coldly  (she  had  noted  that  ex- 
pression of  joy),  "  I  have  no  appe- 
tite ;  do  not  wait  for  me."  And 
soon  after  strolled  away  again. 

Hazel  was  dumfoundered.  There 
was  no  mistaking  tier  manner;  it 
was  chilly  and  reserved  all  of  a  sud- 
den. It  wounded  him  ;  but  he  be- 
haved like  a  man.  What !  I  keep 
her  out  of  her  own  house,  do  1 1  said 
he  to  himself.  He  started  up,  took  a 
fish  out  of  the  pot,  wrapped  it  in  a 
leaf,  and  stalked  otl'  to  his  boat. 
Then  he  ate  a  little  of  the  fish,  threw 
the  rest  away,  and  went  down  upon 
the  sands,  and  paced  them  in  a  sad 
and  bitter  mood. 

But  the  night  calmed  him,  and 
some  hours  of  tranquil  thought 
brought  him  fortitude,  patience,  and 
a  clear  understanding.  He  went  to 
his  boat,  elevated  by  generous  and 
delicate  resolutions.  Now  worthy  re- 
solves are  tranquillizing,  and  he  slept 
profoundly. 

Not  so  she,  whose  sudden  but  very 
natural  change  of  demeanor  had  hurt 
him.  When  she  returned  and  found 
he  was  gone  for  the  night,  she  began 
to  be  alarmed  at  having  offended  hira. 

For  this  and  other  reasons  she 
passed  the  night  in  sore  perplexity, 
and  did  not  sleep  till  morning ;  and  so 
she  overslept  her  usual  time  How- 
ever, when  she  was  up,  she  determined 
to  find  her  own  breakfast ;  she  felt  it 


102 


FOUL  PLAY. 


would  not  rio  to  be  too  dcpcnclent, 
and  on  a  person  of  uncertain  humor; 
such  tor  tlie  moment  slie  chose  to 
pretend  to  herself  was  Hazel.  Ac- 
cordingly she  went  down  to  the  sea 
to  look  lor  crayfish.  She  found 
abundance.  There  they  lay  in  t!ie 
water ;  you  had  but  to  stoop  and 
pick  tiieui  up. 

But  alas  !  they  were  black,  lively, 
viperish ;  she  went  with  no  great 
relish  for  the  task  to  take  one  up ;  it 
wngirled  maliciously  ;  she  dropped  it, 
and  at  that  very  moment,  by  a  curi- 
ous coincidence,  remcmbjred  she  was 
sick  and  tired  of  craylish  ;  she  would 
breakfast  on  fruits.  She  crossed  the 
sand,  took  off  her  shoes,  and  paddled 
through  the  river,  and,  havinj^  put  on 
her  shoes  again,  was  about  to  walk 
up  through  some  rank  grass  to  the 
l)ig  wood,  when  she  heard  a  voice 
behind  her,  and  it  was  Mr.  Hazel. 
She  bit  her  lip  (it  was  broad  daylight 
now),  and  prepared  quietly  to  dis- 
courage this  excessive  assiduity.  He 
came  up  to  her  panting  a  Utile,  and, 
taking  off  his  hat,  said,  with  marked 
respect,  "  I  beg  your  pardon.  Miss 
KoUeston,  but  I  know  you  hate  rep- 
tiles ;  now  there  are  a  few  snakes  in 
that  long  grass  ;  not  poisonous  ones." 

"  Snakes  !  "  cried  Helen  ;  "  let  me 
get  home;  there,  —  I'll  go  without 
my  breakfast." 

"  O,  1  hope  not,"  said  Hazel,  rue- 
fully ;  "  why,  I  have  been  rather  for- 
tunate this  morning,  and  it  is  all 
ready." 

"  That  is  a  different  tiling,"  said 
Helen,  graciously;  "you  must  not 
have  your  trouble  for  nothing,  I  sup- 
pose." 

Directly  after  breakfast.  Hazel  took 
his  axe  and  some  rope  from  the 
boat,  and  went  off  in  a  great  hurry  to 
the  jungle.  In  half  an  hour  or  so 
lie  returned,  dra;rging  a  large  conical 
shrub,  armed  with  spikes  for  leaves, 
increilibly  dense  and  prickly. 

"  There,"  said  he,  "  there's  a  vege- 
table porcuiiinc  for  you.  This  is 
your  best  defence  against  that  roaring 
Bugbear." 


"  That  little  tree  !  "  said  Helen  ; 
"  the  tiger  would  soon  jump  over 
that." 

"  Ay,  but  not  over  this  and  sixty 
more ;  a  wall  of  stilettos.  Don't 
touch  it,  please." 

He  worked  very  hard  all  day,  and 
brought  twelve  of  these  prickly  trees 
to  the  bower  by  sunset.  lie  was  very 
dissatisfied  Avith  his  day's  work; 
seemed  quite  mortified. 

"  This  comes  of  bcgiiming  at  the 
wrong  end,"  he  said;  "I  went  to 
work  like  a  fool.  I  should  have  be- 
gun by  making  a  cart." 

"But  you  can't  do  tliat,"  said 
Helen,  soothingly  ;  "  no  gentleman 
can  make  a  cart." 

'■  O,  surely  anybody  can  make  a 
cart,  by  a  little  thinking,"  suid  he. 

"I  wish,"  said  Helen,  listlessly, 
"you  would  think  of  something  for 
7ne  to  do ;  1  begin  to  be  asliamcd  of 
not  helping." 

"  Hum  !  you  can  plait  "^  " 

"  Yes,  as  far  as  seven  strands." 

"  Then  you  need  never  be  unem- 
ployed. We  want  ropes,  and  sludl 
want  large  mats  for  the  rainy  weather." 

He  went  to  the  place  wiiere  he  had 
warned  her  of  the  snakes,  and  cut  a 
great  bundle  of  long  silky  grass,  sur- 
prisingly tough,  yet  neither  harsh  nor 
juicy  ;  he  brought  it  her,  and  said  he 
should  be  very  glad  of  a  hundred 
yards  of  light  cord,  three  jjly  and  five 

ply- 
She  was  charmed  with  the  grass, 
and  the  very  next  morning  she  came 
to  breakfast  with  it  nicely  |)rcpared, 
and  a  good  deal  of  cord  made  and 
hanging  round  her  neck.  She  found 
some  preparations  for  carjienter's 
work  lying  about. 

"  Is  "that  great  log  for  the  cart  ?  " 
said  she. 

"  Yes !  it  is  a  section  of  a  sago- 
tree." 

"  What,  our  sago  ?  " 
"  The  basis.  Sec,  in  the  centre  it 
is  all  soft  ])ith."  He  got  from  the 
boat  one  of  tiie  augers  that  had  scut- 
tled the  Proserpine,  and  soon  turned 
the  pith  out.    "  They  pound  that  pith 


FOUL  PLAY. 


103 


in  water,  and  run  it  through  linen  ; 
then  sec  the  water  in  the  sun  to  evap- 
orate. The  sediment  is  the  sago 
of  commerce,  and  sad  insipid  stuff  it 
is." 

"  0  please  don't  call  anything 
names  one  has  eaten  in  England," 
said  Helen,  sorrowfully. 

After  a  hasty  meal,  she  and  Mr. 
Hazel  worked  for  a  wager.  Her  taper 
fingers  went  like  the  wind,  and  though 
she  watched  him,  and  asked  ques- 
tions, she  never  stopped  plaiting. 
Mr.  Hazel  was  no  carpenter,  he  was 
merely  Brains  spurred  by  Necessity. 
He  went  to  work  and  sawed  off  four 
short  disks  of  the  .^ago-log. 

"Now  what  are  those,  prayV 
asked  Helen. 

"  The  wheels :  primeval  wheels. 
And  here  are  the  linchpins,  made  of 
hard  wood ;  I  wattled  them  at  odd 
times." 

He  then  produced  two  young  lime- 
trees  he  had  rooted  up  that  morning, 
and  sawed  them  into  poles  in  a  min- 
ute. Tiien  he  bored  two  holes  in  each 
pole,  about  four  inches  from  either 
extremity,  and  fitted  his  linchpins  ; 
then  he  drew  out  his  linchpins,  passed 
each  pole  first  through  one  disk,  and 
then  through  another,  and  fostened 
his  linchpins.  Then  he  ran  to  the 
boat,  and  came  hack  with  the  stern 
and  midship  thwarts.  He  drilled  with 
his  centre-bit  three  rows  of  holes  in 
these,  two  inches  from  the  ed<ie  :  and 
now  Helen's  work  came  in ;  her  grass 
rope  bound  the  thwarts  tight  to  the 
horizontal  poles,  leaving  the  disks 
i-oom  to  play  easily  between  the 
thwarts  and  the  linchpins  ;  hut  there 
was  an  open  space  thirteen  inches 
broad  between  the  thwarts  ;  this  space 
Hazel  herring-boned  over  with  some 
of  Helen's  rope  drawn  as  tight  as 
possible.  The  cart  was  now  made. 
Time  occupied  in  its  production,  three 
hours  and  forty  minutes. 

The  coachmaker  was  very  hot :  and 
Helen  asked  him  timidly  whether  he 
had  not  better  rest  and  eat.  "  No  time 
for  that,"  said  he.  "  The  day  is  not 
half  long  enough  for  what  I  have  to 


do."  He  drank  copiously  from  the 
stream  ;  put  the  carjjcnter's  basket 
into  the  cart :  got  the  tow-rope  from 
the  boat  and  fastened  it  to  the  cart  in 
this  shape  /\,  putting  himself  in  the 
centre.  So  now  the  coachmaker  was 
the  horse,  and  off  they  went,  rattling 
and  creaking,  to  the  jungle. 

Helen  turned  her  stool  and  watched 
this  pageant  enter  the  jungle.  She 
plaited  on,  but  not  so  merrily.  Ha- 
zel's companionship  and  bustling  way 
somehow  kept  her  spirits  up. 

But,  whenever  she  was  left  alone, 
she  gazed  on  the  blank  ocean,  and  her 
heart  died  within  her.  At  last  she 
strolled  pensively  towards  the  jungle, 
plaiting  busily  as  she  went,  and  hang- 
ing the  rope  round  her  neck  as  fast  as 
she  made  it. 

At  the  edge  of  the  jungle  she  found 
Hazel  in  a  difficulty.  He  had  cut 
down  a  wagon-load  of  prickly  trees, 
and  wanted  to  get  all  this  mass  of 
noli  me  tangere  on  to  that  wretched 
little  cart,  but  had  not  rope  enough 
to  keep  it  together  :  she  gave  him 
plenty  of  new  line,  and  partly  by  fast- 
ening a  small  rope  to  the  big  rope 
and  so  making  the  big  rope  a  re- 
ceptacle, partly  by  artful  tying,  they 
dragged  home  an  incredible  load.  To 
be  sure  some  of  it  draggled  half  along 
the  ground  :  and  came  after,  like  a 
peacock's  tail. 

He  made  six  trips,  and  then  the 
sun  was  low ;  so  he  began  to  binld. 
He  raised  a  rampart  of  these  prickly 
trees,  a  rampart  three  feet  wide  aird 
eight  feet  high  ;  but  it  only  went 
round  two  sides  and  a  half  of  the 
bower.  So  then  he  said  he  had 
failed  again  ;  and  lay  down  worn  out 
by  fatigue. 

'Helen  RoUeston,  though  dejected 
herself,  could  not  help  pitying  him 
for  his  exhaustion  in  her  service,  and 
for  his  bleeding  hands  :  she  undertook 
the  cooking,  and  urged  him  kindly  to 
eat  of  every  dish  ;  and,  when  he  rose 
to  go,  she  thanked  him  with  as  much 
feeling  as  modesty  for  the  great  pains 
he  had  taken  to  lessen  those  fears  of 
hers  which  she  saw  he  did  not  share. 


104 


FOUL  PLAY. 


Tliose  kinds  words  more  than  re- 
paid liim.  Ho  wi'iit  to  his  httlo  den 
in  ;i  ^low  ol'  spiiiis  ;  and  the  next 
morning  went  oil'  in  a  violent  iinrry, 
and,  tor  once,  seemed  ghul  to  yet 
away  from  her. 

"  Poor  Mr.  ILizel,"  said  slic,  softly, 
and  watehcd  liini  out  of  siyht.  Then 
she  -^ot  her  jilait,  and  went  to  the 
liij;h  jioint  where  he  had  harked  a 
rree ;  and  looked  far  and  wide  for  a 
sail.  The  air  was  wonderfidly  clear  ; 
the  whole  ocean  seemed  in  siyht ;  but 
all  was  blank. 

A  <;reat  awe  fell  npon  her,  and 
sickness  of  heart ;  and  tiien  first  she 
be}i:an  to  fear  she  was  out  of  the 
known  world,  and  niiiiht  die  on  that 
island  ;  or  never  be  found  by  the  jn'es- 
ent  generation  :  and  this  sickening 
fear  lurked  in  her  fiom  that  hour,  and 
led  to  eoiiscquenees  that  will  be  re- 
lated shortly. 

She  did  not  return  for  a  long  while, 
and,  when  she  did,  she  found  Ha- 
zel had  com]>lcted  her  fortifications. 
He  invited  her  to  explore  the  west- 
ern part  of  the  island,  but  she  de- 
clined. 

"  Thank  yon,"  said  she  ;  "  not  to- 
day ;  there  is  something  to  be  done 
at  home.  I  have  been  comparing  my 
abode  with  yours,  and  the  contrast 
makes  me  nneonifortable.  if  it  does  n't 
you.  Oblige  mc  by  building  yourself 
a  house." 

"  What,  in  an  afternoon  ?  " 

"  AVhy  not  ?  yon  made  a  cart  in  a 
forenoon.  How  can  I  tell  your  limits  ? 
you  arc  quite  out  of  my  poor  little 
depth.  Well,  at  all  events,  yon  must 
roof  the  boat,  or  something.  Come, 
be  good  for  once,  and  think  a  little 
of  yourself.  There,  I  '11  sit  by  and  — 
what  shall  I  do  whilst  you  are  work- 
ing to  oblige  me  ?  " 

"  Make  a  fishing-net  of  cocoa-nut 
fibre,  four  feet  deep.  Here  's  ))lenty 
of  material  all  prepared." 

"  Why,  Air.  Hazel,  you  must  work 
in  your  sleep." 

"  No  ;  but  of  course  I  am  not  idle 
when  1  am  alone  ;  and  luckily  I  have 
made  a  spade  out  of  hard  wood  at 


odd  hours,  or  all  the  afternoon  would 
go  ill  nniking  that." 

"  A  s])a(le  !  You  arc  going  to  dig 
a  hole  in  the  ground  and  call  it  a 
house.     That  will  not  do  for  me." 

"  You  will  see,"  said  Hazel. 

The  boat  lay  in  a  little  triangnlar 
creek;  the  surrounding  earth  was 
alluvial  clay  ;  a  sort  of  black  cheesy 
mould,  still",  but  kindly  to  work  with 
the  s])ade.  Hazel  cut  -and  ihisellcd 
it  out  at  a  grand  rate,  and,  throwing 
it  to  the  sides,  raised  by  degrees  two 
mud  banks,  one  on  each  side  the 
boat ;  and  at  last  he  dug  so  deep  that 
he  was  enabled  to  draw  the  boat  an- 
other yard  inland. 

As  Helen  sat  by  netting  and  for- 
cing a  smile  now  and  tlien,  though  sad 
at  heart,  he  was  on  his  mettle,  and 
the  muil  walls  he  raised  in  four  hours 
wore  really  wonderful.  He  squared 
their  inner  sides  with  the  s]>adc. 
When  he  had  done,  the  boat  lay  in  a 
hollow,  the  walls  of  which,  half  nat- 
ural, half  artilicial,  were  five  feet 
above  her  gunwale,  ami,  of  course, 
eight  feet  above  her  bottom,  in  wliich 
Hazel  used  to  lie  at  night.  He  then 
made  another  little  wall  at  the  boat's 
stern,  and  laid  palm-bianclics  over  all, 
and  a  few  huge  banana-leaves  from 
the  jungle  ;  got  a  dozen  large  stones 
out  of  the  river,  tied  four  yard's- 
lengihs  of  Helen's  grass-rope  from 
stone  to  stone,  and  so,  jiassing  the 
ro])cs  over  the  roof,  conlincd  it,  oih- 
erwise  a  sudden  gust  of  wind  might 
lift  it. 

"  There,"  said  lie ;  "  am  I  not  as 
well  off  as  you  ?  —  I,  a  great  tough 
man.  Abominable  waste  of  lime,  I 
call   it." 

"  Hum  !  "  said  Helen,  doubtfully. 
"  All  this  is  very  clever;  but  I  doubt 
whether  it  will  keep  out  much  rain." 

"  More  than  yours  will,"  said  Ha- 
zel, "  and  that  is  a  ver\'  serious  thing. 
I  am  afraid  you  little  know  how  seri- 
ous. But,  to-morrow,  if  yon  jilease,  I 
will  examine  our  resources,  and  lay 
our  whole  situation  before  you.  and 
ask  your  advice.  As  to  your  Bug- 
bear, let  him  roar  his  heart  out,  his 


FOUL  PLAY. 


105 


rci<jn   13  over.     Will  you  not  come 
and  sec  your  wooden  walls  1  " 

He  then  took  Helen  and  showed 
her  the  treniemlous  nature  of  her  for- 
tification, and  assured  her  that  no 
beast  of  [irey  could  face  it,  nor  even 
smell  at  it,  with  impunity.  And  as 
to  the  door,  here  the  defence  was 
double  and  treble  ;  but  attached  to  four 
grass  cords  ;  two  passed  into  the  abode 
round  each  of  the  screw  pine-trees  at 
the  east  side,  and  were  kept  in  their 
places  by  pegs  driven  into  the  trees. 

"  When  you  are  up,"  said  Hazel, 
"  you  pull  these  four  cords  steadily, 
and  your  four  guards  will  draw  back 
right  and  left,  with  all  their  bayonets, 
and  you  can  come  out." 

Helen  was  very  much  pleased  with 
this  arrangement,  and  did  not  disguise 
her  gratitude.  She  slept  in  peace  and 
comfort  that  night.  Hazel,  too,  prof- 
ited by  the  mud  walls  and  leafy  roof 
she  had  compelled  him  to  rear ;  for 
this  night  was  colder,  as  it  happened, 
than  any  preceding-  night  since  they 
came  ashore.  In  the  morning.  Hazel 
saw  a-green  turtle  onthesliore,  which 
was  unusual  at  that  time  of  year. 
He  ran  and  turned  her,  with  some 
difficulty  ;  tiien  brought  down  his 
cart,  cut  off  her  head  with  a  blow, 
and,  in  due  course,  dragged  her  up 
thi  slope.  Slie  weighed  two  hundred 
pounds.  He  showed  Miss  Roileston 
the  enormous  shell,  gave  her  a  lecture 
on  turtles,  and  especially  on  the  four 
species  known  to  South  Sea  navi- 
gators, —  the  trunk  turtle,  the  logger- 
head, the  green  turtle,  and  the  hawks- 
bill,  from  which  last,  and  not  from 
any  tortoise,  he  assured  her  came  the 
tortoise-shell  of  commerce. 

•'  And  now,"  said  he,  "  will  you 
not  give  up  or  suspend  your  Reptile 
theory,  and  eat  a  little  green  turtle, 
the  king  of  them  all  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  must,  after  all  that,"  said 
she  ;  and  rather  relished  it. 

That  morning  he  kept  his  word, 
and  laid  their  case  before  her. 

He  said  :  "  We  are  here  on  an 
island  that  has  probably  been  seen 
and  disregarded  by  a  few  whalers,  but 


is  not  known  to  navigators  nor  down 
on  any  chart.     There  is  a  wide  range 
of  vegetation,  proving  a  delightful  cli- 
mate on  the  whole,  and  one  particu- 
larly suited  to  you,  whose  lungs  are 
delicate.       But  then,   comparing  the 
beds  of  the  rivers  with  the  banks,  a 
tremendous  fall  of  rain  is  indicated. 
The  rainy  months  (in  these  latitudes) 
are  at  liand,  and  if  these  rains  catch 
us  in  our  present  condition,  it  will  be 
a  calamity.     You  have  walls,  but  no 
roof  to  keep  it  out.     I  tremble  when 
I  think  of  it.     This  is  my  main  anx- 
iety.    My   next  is  about  our  sustc- 
nincc  during  the  rains ;  we  have  no 
stores  under  cover  ;  no  fuel ;  no  pro- 
visions   but   a   few  cocoa-nuts.     We 
use  two  lucifer  matches  a  day;  and 
what  is  to  become  of  us  at  that  rate  1 
In  theory,  fire  can  be  got  by  rubl)ing 
two  pieces  of  wood  together  ;  Selkirk 
is  said  to  have  so  obtained  it  from  pi- 
mento   wood    on    Juan    Fernandez; 
but,  in  fact,  I  believe  the  art  is  con- 
fined to  savages.-     I  never  met  a  civil- 
ized man  who  could  do  it,  and  I  have 
questioned   scores   of  voyagers.     As 
for   my   weapons,  they  consist  of  a 
boat-hook  and  an  axe ;  no  gun,  no 
harpoon,  no  bow,  no  lance.     My  tools 
are   a  blunt  saw,  a   blunter   axe,  a 
wooden  spade,  two  great  augers,  that 
I  believe  had  a  hand  in  bringing  us 
here,  but  have  not  been  any  use  to  us 
since,  a  centre-bit,  two  planes,  a  ham- 
mer, a  pair  of  pincers,  two  brad-awls, 
three  gimlets,  two  scrapers,  a  plumb- 
lead  and  line,  a  large  pair  of  scissors, 
and  you  have  a  small  pair,  two  gauges, 
I  a  screw-driver,  five  clasp-knives,  a  few 
I  screws  and  nails  of  various  sizes,  two 
I  small  barrels,  two  bags,  two  tin  bowls, 
I  two  wooden  bowls,  and  the  shell  of 
I  this  turtle,  and  that  is  a  very  good 
I  soup-tureen,  only  we  have  no  meat  to 
make  soup  with." 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  Miss  Roileston, 
resignedly,  "we  can  but  kneel  down 
and  die." 

"  That  would  be  cutting  the  gor- 
dian  knot,  indeed,"  said  Hazel. 
"  What,  die  to  shirk  a  few  difficulties  1 
No.     1   propose   an   amendment  to 


106 


FOUL   PLAY. 


that.  After  the  words  'kneel  down,' 
insert  the  words,  '  and  <xet  np  .i^iiin, 
trusting;  in  th.it  merciful  Providence 
wliicli  has  saved  us  so  far,  but  expects 
us  to  exert  ourselves  too. '  " 

"  It  is  good  and  pious  advice," 
snid  Helen,  "  and  let  us  follow  it  this 
moment." 

"  Now,  said  Hazel,  "  I  have  three 
propositions  to  lay  before  you.  1st, 
That  I  hereby  give  up  M'alking  and 
take  to  running  ;  time  is  so  precious. 
2d,  That  we  both  work  by  night  as 
well  as  day.  3d,  That  we  eacli  tell 
the  other  our  principal  wants,  so  tliat 
there  may  be  four  eyes  on  the  lookout, 
as  we  go,  instead  of  two." 

"I  consent,"  said  Helen;  "pray 
what  are  your  wants  ?  " 

"  Iron,  oil,  salt,  tar,  a  bellows,  a 
pickaxe,  planks,  thread,  nets,  light 
matting  for  roofs,  bricks,  chimney- 
pots, jars,  glass,  animal  food,  some 
variety  of  vegetable  food,  and  so  on. 
I  '11  write  down  the  entire  list  for 
you." 

"  You  will  be  puzzled  to  do  that 
■without  ink  or  paj)er." 

"  Not  in  the  least.  I  shall  engrave 
it  in  (iho-rilievo,  make  the  words  with 
pebbles  on  the  turf  just  above  high- 
water  mark.  Now  tell  me  your 
wants." 

"  Well,  I  want  —  impossibilities." 

"  Enumerate  them." 

"  What  is  tlie  use  T' 

"  It  is  the  method  we  have  agreed 
upon." 

"0,  very  well,  then.  I  want  —  a 
sponge." 

"  tiood.     Wliat  next  ?  " 

"  I  iiave  broken  my  comb." 

"  Good." 

"  I  'm  glad  you  think  so.  I  want  — 
O  Mr.  Hazel,  what  is  the  use  7  — 
well,  I  should  like  a  mattress  to  lie  on." 

"  Hair  or  wool  ?  " 

"  I  don't  care  which.  And  it  is  a 
shame  to  ask  you  for  either." 

"  Go  on." 

"  I  want  a  looking-glass." 

"  Great  Heaven  !     Wh.it  f.)r  ?  " 

"  0,  never  mind  :  I  want  one ;  and 


some  more  towels,  and  some  soap, 
and  a  few  hair-j)ins  ;  and  some  elastic 
bands  ;  and  some  pen,  ink,  and  paper, 
to  write  my  feilings  down  in  this  isl- 
and for  nobody  ever  to  see." 

When  she  began  Hazel  looked 
bright,  but  tiie  list  was  like  a  wasp,  its 
sting  lay  in  its  tail.  However,  he  put 
a  good  face  on  it.  "I  '11  try  and  get 
you  all  those  tilings  :  only  give  me 
time.  Do  you  know  I  am  writing  a 
dictionary  on  a  novel  method." 

"  That  means  on  the  sand." 

"  No ;  the  work  is  suspended  for 
the  present.  But  two  of  the  defini- 
tions in  it  are,  —  Difficulties, — 
things  to  be  subdued  ;  I.mi'Ossirili- 
TiES,  —  tilings  to  be  trampled  on." 

"  Well,  subdue  mine.  Trample  on 
—  a  sponge  for  me." 

"  That  is  just  what  I  was  going  to 
do,"  said  he :  opened  a  clasp-knife 
and  jumped  coolly  into  the  river. 

Helen  screamed  faintly,  but  after  all 
tlie  water  Mas  only  up  to  his  knees. 

He  soon  cut  a  large  sponge  off  a 
piece  of  slimy  rock,  and  held  it  up  to 
her.  "  There,"  said  he,  "  why,  there 
are  a  score  of  them  at  your  very  door, 
and  you  never  saw  them  ?  " 

"  O.  excuse  me,  I  did  see  them,  and 
shuddered  ;  I  thought  they  were  rep- 
tiles ;  dormant,  and  l)iding  their  time." 

When  he  was  out  of  the  river  again, 
she  thought  a  little,  and  asked  him 
whether  old  iron  would  be  of  any  use 
to  him. 

"  O,  certainly,"  said  he  ;  "what  do 
you  know  of  any  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  saw  some  one  day.  I  '11 
go  and  look  for  it." 

She  took  the  way  of  the  shore ; 
and  he  got  his  cart  and  spade,  and 
went  post-haste  to  his  clayjiit. 

He  made  a  quantity  of  bricks,  and 
brought  them  home,  and  put  them 
to  dry  in  the  sun.  He  also  cut 
grcnt  pieces  of  the  turtle,  and  wrajipcd 
them  in  fresh  banana-leaves,  and  en- 
closed them  in  clay.  He  then  ti-ied  to 
make  a  large  narrow-necked  vessel, 
and  failed  utterly  ;  so  he  made  the 
clay  into  a  great  rude  platter  like  a 
shallow  milk-pan.     Then  he  peeled 


FOUL  PLAY. 


107 


the  sago-log:,  off  which  he  hail  cut  his 
wheels,  and  rubbud  it  witli  turtle-fat, 
and,  using-  it  as  a  form,  produced  two 
clay  cylinders.  These  lie  set  in  the 
sun,  with  bricks  round  them  to  keep 
them  from  falling.  Leaving  all  these 
to  dry  and  set  before  he  baked  them, 
he  went  off  to  the  marsh  for  fern- 
leaves.  The  soil  being  so  damp,  the 
trees  w'ere  covered  with  a  brownisli- 
red-substance,  scarce  distinguishable 
from  wool.  This  he  had  counted  on. 
But  he  also  found  in  the  same  neigh- 
borhood a  long  cypress-haired  moss 
that  seemed  to  him  very  promising. 
lie  made  several  trips,  and  raised  quite 
a  stack  of  fern-leaves.  By  this  time 
the  sun  had  operated  on  his  thinner 
pottery  ;  so  he  laid  down  six  of  his 
large  thick  tiles,  and  lighted  a  fire  on 
them  with  dry  banana-leaves,  and 
cocoa-nut,  etc.,  and  such  light  com- 
bustibles, until  he  had  heated  and 
hardened  the  clay  ;  then  he  put  the 
ashes  on  one  side,  and  swept  the  clay 
clean  ;  then  he  put  the  tire  on  again, 
and  made  it  hotter  and  hotter,  till  the 
clay  began  to  redden. 

While  he  was  thus  occupied.  Miss 
RoUeston  came  from  the  jungle  ra- 
diant, carrying  vegetable  treasures  in 
her  apron.  First  she  produced  some 
golden  apples  with  reddish  leaves. 

"There,"  said  she;  "and  they 
smell  delicious." 

Hazel  eyed  them  keenly. 

*'  You  have  not  eaten  any  of  them  ?  " 

"  What !  by  myself?  "    said  Helen. 

"Thank  Heaven!"  said  Hazel, 
turning  pale.  "  These  are  the  man- 
chanilla,  the  poison  apple  of  the  Pa- 
cific." 

"  Poison  !  "  said  Helen,  alarmed  in 
her  turn. 

"  Well,  I  don't  hww  that  they  are 
poison ;  but  travellers  give  them  a 
very  bad  name.  The  birds  never  peck 
them ;  and  I  have  read  that  even  the 
leaves  falling  into  still  water  have 
killed  the  fish.  You  will  not  eat  any- 
thing here  till  yon  have  shown  it  me, 
will  you  ?  "  said  he,  imploringly. 

"  No,  no,"  said  Helen  ;  and  sat 
down  with  her  hand  to  her  heart  a 


minute.  "  And  I  was  so  pleased 
when  r  found  them,"  she  said  ;  "  they 
reminded  me  of  home.  I  wonder 
whether  these  are  poison,  too  ?  "  and 
she  opened  her  apron  wide,  and 
showed  him  some  long  yellow  pods, 
with  red  specks,  something  like  a 
very  hirge  banana, 

"  Ah,  that  is  a  very  different  affair," 
said  Hazel,  delighted ;  "  these  are 
plantains,  and  the  greatest  find  we 
have  made  yet.  The  fruit  is  meat, 
the  wood  is  thread,  and  the  leaf  is 
shelter  and  clothes.  The  fruit  is  good 
raw,  and  better  baked,  as  you  shall 
see,  and  I  believe  this  is  the  first  time 
the  dinner  and  the  dish  were  both 
baked  together." 

He  cleared  the  now  heated  hearth, 
put  the  meat  and  fruit  on  it,  then 
placed  his  great  platter  over  it,  and 
heaped  fire  round  the  platter,  and  light 
combustibles  over  it.  Whilst  this  was 
going  on,  Helen  took  him  to  her  bower, 
and  showed  him  three  rusty  iron 
hoops,  and  a  piece  of  rotten  wood 
with  a  rusty  nail,  and  the  marks  where 
others  had  been.  "  There,"  said  she ; 
"  that  is  all  I  could  find." 

"  Why,  it  is  a  treasure,"  cried  he  ; 
"you  will  see.  I  have  found  some- 
thing, too." 

He  then  showed  her  the  vegetable 
wool  and  vegetable  hair  he  had  col- 
lected, and  told  her  where  they  grew. 
She  owned  they  were  wonderful  imi- 
tations, and  would  do  as  well  as  the 
real  things  ;  and,  ere  they  had  done 
comparing  notes,  the  platter  and  the 
dinner  under  it  were  both  baked. 
Hazel  removed  the  platter  or  milk- 
pan,  and  served  the  dinner  in  it. 

If  Hazel  was  inventive,  Heleti  was 
skilful  and  quick  at  any  kind  of  wo- 
man's work ;  and  the  following  is  the 
I'esult  of  the  throe  weeks'  work  under 
his  direction.  She  had  made  as  fol- 
lows :  — 

1.  Thick  mattress,  stuffed  with  the 
vegetable  hair  and  wool  described 
above.  The  mattress  was  only  two 
feet  six  inches  wide  ;  for  Helen  found 
that  she  never  turned  in  bed  now. 
She  slept  as  she  had  never  slept  be- 


108 


FOUL   PLAY. 


fore.  Tliis  mattress  was  made  with 
plaintain-leaves  sewed  toj^etlier  with 
the  tliread  turnislied  by  the  tree  itself, 
aud  doubled  at  the  edj^cs. 

2.  A  long  shallow  net  four  feet 
deep,  —  coeoa  fibre. 

3.  A  great  quantity  of  stout  grass- 
rope,  and  light,  but  elose  matting  for 
the  roof,  and  some  cocoa-nut  iniitting 
for  the  ground,  and  to  go  under  the 
mattress.  But  Hazel,  instructed  by  her, 
had  learned  to  plait,  —  ratherclumsily, 
—  and  he  had  a  hand  in  the  matting. 

Hazel  ill  the  mean  time  heightened 
his  own  mud  banks  in  the  centre,  and 
set  up  brick  fireplaces  witii  hearth  and 
chimney,  one  on  each  side  ;  and  now 
did  all  the  cooking  ;  for  he  found  the 
smoke  from  wood  made  Miss  KoUes- 
ton  cough.  lie  also  made  a  number 
of  pigeon-holes  in  his  mud  walls  and 
lined  them  with  clay.  One  of  these 
he  dried  with  fire,  and  made  a  pottery 
door  to  it,  and  there  kept  the  lucifer- 
box.  He  made  a  vast  number  of 
bricks,  but  did  nothing  with  them. 
After  several  failures  he  made  two 
large  pots,  and  two  great  ]jans,  that 
would  all  four  bear  fire  under  them, 
and  in  the  pans  lie  boiled  sea-water 
till  it  all  evaporated  and  left  hiui  a 
sediment  of  salt.  This  was  a  great 
addition  to  their  food,  and  he  managed 
also  to  ))ut  by  a  little.  But  it  was  a 
slow  process. 

He  made  a  liuire  pair  of  bellows, 
■with  a  little  assistance  from  Miss  Kol- 
leston  ;  the  spout  was  a  sago  stick, 
with  the  pith  driven  out,  and  the  sub- 
stitute for  leather  was  the  skin  of  a 
huge  eel  he  found  stranded  at  the  cast 
point. 

Having  got  his  bellows  and  fixed 
ihem  to  a  post  he  drove  into  tlie 
ground,  he  took  for  his  anvil  a  huge 
flint  stone,  and  a  smaller  one  for  liam- 
mer:  heated  his  old  iron  to  a  white 
heat,  and  hammered  it  witli  a  world 
of  trouble  into  straight  lengths  ;  and 
at  last  with  a  portion  of  it  jiroduced  a 
long  saw  without  teeth,  but  one  side 
sharper  than  the  other.  This,  by  re- 
peated experiments  of  heating  and 
immersing  iu  water,  he  at  last  an- 


nealed ;  and  when  he  wanted  to  saw, 
he  blew  liis  embers  to  a  white  heat 
(he  kept  the  tire  alive  now  night  and 
day) ;  heated  his  original  saw  red-hot, 
and  soon  sawed  through  the  oleagi- 
nous woods  of  that  island.  If  he  want- 
ed to  cut  down  a  tree  in  the  jungle, 
he  put  the  bellows  and  a  pot  of  em- 
bers on  his  cart  with  other  fuel,  and 
came  and  lighted  the  fire  under  the 
tree  and  soon  had  it  down.  He  made 
his  pickaxe  in  iialf  an  hour,  ))ut  with 
his  eyes  rather  than  his  hands.  He 
found  a  young  tree  growing  on  the 
rock,  or  at  least  on  soil  so  shallow 
that  the  root  was  half  above  ground 
and  at  light  angles  to  the  stem.  He 
got  this  tree  up,  shortened  the  stem, 
shaped  the  root,  shod  the  point  with 
some  of  his  late  old  iron  ;  and  with 
this  primitive  tool,  and  a  thick  stake 
baked  at  the  jioint,  he  opened  iho 
ground  to  receive  twelve  stout  up- 
rights, and  he  drove  them  with  a  tre- 
mendous mallet  made  upon  what 
might  be  called  the  compendious  or 
Hazeiian  method  ;  it  was  a  section  of 
a  hard  tree  with  a  thick  shoot  grow- 
ing out  of  it,  which  shoot,  being  short- 
ened, served  for  the  handle.  By  these 
arts  he  at  last  saw  a  goal  to  his  la- 
bors. Animal  food,  oil,  pitch,  ink, 
paper,  were  still  wanting ;  Itut  fish 
were  abundant,  and  plantains  and 
cocoa-nuts  stored.  Above  all,  Helen's 
hut  was  now  weather-tight.  Stout 
horizontal  bars  were  let  into  the  trees, 
and,  being  bound  to  tiie  uprights, 
tiie^v  mutually  supported  each  other; 
smaller  horizontal  bars  at  intervals 
kept  the  prickly  ramparts  from  being 
driven  in  by  a  sudden  gust.  The  can- 
vas walls  were  removed,  and  the  nails 
stored  in  a  pigeon-hole,  and  a  stout 
network  substituted,  to  which  huge 
plantain-leaves  were  cunningly  fas- 
tened with  ])lantain-thrcad.  The  roof 
was  double  :  first,  that  extraordinary 
mass  of  spiked  leaves  which  the  four 
trees  threw  out,  then  several  feet  un- 
der that  the  huge  piece  of  matting  the 
pair  had  made.  This  was  strength- 
ened by  double  strips  of  eanvas  at  the 
edges  and  iu  the  centre,  and  by  single 


FOUL  PLAY. 


109 


strips  in  other  parts.  A  great  many 
cords  and  striujrs  made  of  that  won- 
derful grass  weie  sown  to  the  eauvas- 
strengtliened  edges,  and  so  it  was  fast- 
ened to  tiie  trees,  aud  fastened  to  the 
horizontal  bars. 

When  this  work  drew  close  to  its 
completion,  Hazel  could  not  disguise 
his  sati'<faction. 

But  he  very  soon  had  tlie  mortifi 
cation  of  seeing  that  she  for  whom  it 
was  all  done  did -not  share  his  com- 
placency. 

A  change  took  place  in  her;  she 
often  let  lier  work  fall,  and  brooded. 
She  spoke  sometimes  sharply  to  Mr. 
Hazel,  and  sometimes  with  strained 
civility.  She  wandered  away  from 
him,  and  from  his  labors  for  her  com- 
fort, and  pa-^sed  hours  at  Telegrapli 
Point,  eying  the  illimitable  ocean. 
She  was  a  Riddle.  All  sweetness  at 
times,  but  at  others  irritable,  moody, 
and  scarce  mi>tress  of  herself.  Hazel 
was  sorry  and  perplexed,  and  ol'ten 
expressed  a  fear  she  was  ill.  The 
answer  was  always  in  the  negative. 
He  (lid  not  press  her,  but  worked  on 
for  her,  hoping  the  mood  would  pass. 
And  so  it  would,  no  doubt,  if  the 
cause  had  not  remained. 

Matters  were  still  in  this  uncomfort- 
able and  mysterious  state  when  Hazel 
put  bis  finishing  stroke  to  her  abode. 

He  was  in  lii.;h  s])irits  that  even- 
ing :  for  he  had  made  a  discovery  ; 
he  had  at  last  found  time  for  a  walk, 
and  followed  the  river  to  its  source,  a 
very  remarkable  lake  in  a  hilly 
basin.  Near  this  was  a  pond,  the 
water  of  which  he  had  tasted  and 
found  it  highly  bituminous ;  and, 
making  further  researches,  he  had 
found  at  the  bottom  of  a  rocky  ravine 
a  very  wonderful  thing,  —  a  dark 
resinous  fluid  bui)bling  uj)  in  quite  a 
fountain,  which,  however,  fell  down 
aijain  as  it  rose,  and  hardly  any  over- 
flowed.    It  was  like  thin  jjitch. 

Of  course,  in  another  jiour  he  was 
back  there  with  a  great  pot,  and  half 
filled  it.  It  was  not  like  water  :  it 
did  not  bubble  so  high  when  some 
had  been  taken:  so  he  just  took  what 


he  could  get.  Pursuing  his  re- 
searciies  a  little  farther  he  found  a 
range  of  rocks  with  snowy  summits 
apparently ;  but  the  snow  was  the 
guano  of  centuries.  He  got  to  the 
western  extremity  of  the  island,  saw 
another  deep  bay  or  rather  branch  of 
the  sea,  and  on  the  other  side  of  it  a 
tongue  of  high  land  running  out  to 
sea:  on  that  promoiitory  stood  a 
gigantic  palm-tree.  He  recognized 
that  with  a  certain  thrill,  but  was  in  a 
great  hurry  to  get  home  with  his  pot 
of  pitch  ;  for  it  was  in  truth  a  very 
remarkable  discovery,  though  not 
without  a  parallel.  He  could  not 
wait  till  morning,  so  with  embers  and 
cocoa-nut  he  made  afire  in  the  bower, 
and  melted  his  pitch  which  had  be- 
come nearly  solid,  and  proceeded  to 
smear  the  inside  of  the  matting  in 
places,  to  make  it  thoroughly  water- 
tight. 

Helen  treated  the  discovery  at  first 
with  mortifying  indifference:  but  he 
hoped  she  would  appreciate  Nature's 
bounty  more  when  she  saw  the  prac- 
tical use  of  this  extraordinary  pro- 
duction. He  endeavored  to  lead  her 
to  that  view.  She  shook  her  head  sor- 
rowfully. He  persisted.  She  met 
him  with  silence.  He  thought  this 
peevish,  and  ungrateful  to  Heaven; 
we  have  all  different  measures  of  the 
wonderful  ;  and  to  him  a  fountain  of 
pitch  was  a  thing  to  admire  greatly 
and  thank  God  for:  he  said  as  much. 

To  Helen  it  was  nasty  stuff,  and 
who  cares  where  it  came  from  ?  She 
conveyed  as  much  by  a  shrug  of  the 
shoulders,  and  then  gave  a  sigh  that 
told  her  mind  was  far  away. 

He  was  a  little  mortified,  and 
showed  it. 

One  word  led  to  another,  and  at 
last  what  had  been  long  fermenting 
came  out. 

"  Mr.  Hazel,"  said  she,  "  you  and  I 
are  at  cross  purposes.  You  mean  to 
live  here.     I  do  not." 

Hazel  left  off  working  and  looked 
greatly  perplexed,  the  attack  was  so 
sudden  in  its  form,  though  it  had  been 
a  long  time  threatening.     He  found 


110 


FOUL  TLAY. 


nothing  to  say,  and  she  was  impatient 
now  to  sjjeak  her  minil,  so  she  replied 
to  his  look. 

"  You  are  m;iking  yourself  at 
home    here.  You    are    contented. 

Contented?  You  are  happy  in  this 
horiible  prison." 

"And  why  not?"  said  Hazel. 
But  lie  looked  rather  guilty.  "  Here 
arc  no  traitors  ;  no  murderers.  The 
animals  are  my  friends,  and  the  one 
human  being  I  see  makes  me  better 
to  lo(jk  at  her." 

"  Mr.  Hazel,  I  am  in  a  state  of 
mind,  tliat  roniantie  nonsense  jars  on 
me.  Be  honest  with  me,  and  talk 
to  me  like  a  man.  I  say  that  you 
beam  all  over  with  hap|jiness  and 
content,  and  that  you  —  Now  answer 
me  one  question  ;  why  have  you  nev- 
er lighted  the  bonfire  on  Telegraph 
Point  ?  " 

"  Indeed  I  don't  know,"  said  he, 
submissively.  "  1  have  been  so  oc- 
cupied." 

"  You  have  :  and  how  ?  Not  in 
trying  to  deliver  us  both  fioni  this 
dreadful  situation,  but  to  reconcile 
me  to  it.  Yes,  sir,  under  pretence 
(that  is  a  harsh  word,  but  I  can't 
help  it)  of  keeping  out  the  rain. 
Your  rain  is  a  bugbear;  it  never 
rains,  it  never  will  rain.  You  are 
killing  yourself  almost  to  make  me 
conifortal)le  in  this  place.  Comfort- 
able ? "  She  beg.m  to  tremble  all 
over  with  excitement  long  restrained. 
"  And  do  you  really  sn])pose  you 
can  make  me  live  on  like  this,  by 
building  me  a  nice  hut.  Do  you 
think  I  am  all  body  and  no  soul,  that 
shelter  and  warmth  and  enough  to 
eat  can  keep  my  heart  from  breaking, 
and  my  <-heoks  from  blushing  night 
and  day  ?  When  I  wake  in  the  morn- 
ing I  find  myself  blusliing  ta  my 
fingers'  ends."  Tlifu  she  walked 
away  from  liim.  Tiien  she  walked 
b:u'k.  "  O  my  dear  fatlier,  why  did 
I  ever  leave  you  !  Keep  me  here  ? 
make  me  live  months  and  years  on 
this  island  ?  Have  you  sisters  ? 
Have  you  a  mother?  Ask  yourself, 
is  it  likely  ?     No  ;  if  you  "will  not 


help  me,  and  they  don't  love  me 
enough  to  come  and  find  me  and 
take  me  home,  I'll  go  to  another 
home  without  your  help  or  any 
man's."  Then  she  rose  suddenly  to 
her  feet.  "  I  '11  tie  my  clothes  tight 
round  me,  and  fling  myself  down 
from  that  point  on  to  the  sharp  rocks 
below.  I  '11  tind  a  way  fiom  this 
place  to  heaven,  if  there 's  no  way 
from  it  to  those  I  love  on  earth." 

Then  she  sank  down  and  rocked 
herself  and  sobbed  hard. 

The  strong  passion  of  this  hitherto 
gentle  creature  quite  frightened  her 
unhappy  friend,  who  knew  more  of 
books  than  women.  He  longed  to 
soothe  her  and  comfort  her ;  but 
what  could  he  say  ?  He  cried  out  in 
despair,  "  My  God,  can  I  do  nothing 
for  her  ?  " 

She  turned  on  him  like  lightning. 
"  You  can  do  anything:  everything. 
You  can  restore  us  both  to  our  friends. 
You  can  save  my  life,  my  reason. 
For  that  will  go  first,  I  think.  What 
lind  I  done?  what  had  I  ever  done 
since  I  was  boin,  to  be  so  brought 
down  ?  Was  ever  an  English  lady  —  ? 
And  then  I  have  such  an  irritation 
on  my  skin,  all  over  me.  I  sometimes 
wish  the  tiger  would  come  and  tear 
me  all  to  pieces  ;  yes,  all  to  pieces." 
And  with  that  her  wliite  teetli  clicked 
tojzether  convulsively.  "Do?"  said 
she,  darting  back  to  the  point  as  swift- 
ly as  she  had  rushed  away  from  it. 
"  Why,  put  down  that  nasty  stuff; 
and  leave  off  inventing  filty  little 
trum])eiy  things  for  me,  and  do  one 
great  thing  instead.  O,  do  not  fritter 
tliat  great  mind  of  yours  away  in 
painting  and  patching  my  prison  ; 
but  bring  it  all  to  bear  on  getting  me 
out  of  my  prison.  Call  sea  and  land 
to  om-  rescue.  Let  them  know  a  ])oor 
girl  ii  here  in  unheard-of,  nnfatiiom- 
able  misery  :  here,  in  the  middle  of 
thi-;  awful  ocean." 

Hizel  sighed  deeply.  "  No  ships 
seem  to  jjass  within  sight  of  us,"  he 
muttered. 

"  What  does  that  matter  to  you'? 
You  arc  not  a  common  man  ;  you  are 


FOUL  PLAY. 


Ill 


an  inventor.  Rouse  all  the  powers 
of  your  mind.  There  must  he  some 
way.  Think  for  me.  Think  ! 
THINK  !  or  my  hlood  will  he  on  your 
head." 

Hazel  turned  pale  and  put  his  head 
in  his  hands,  and  tried  to  think. 

She  leaned  tow:wds  him  with  great 
flashing  eyes  of  purest  hazel. 

The  problem  droiiped  from  his  lips 
a  syllable  at  a  time.  "  To  diifuse  — 
intelligence  —  a  hundred  leagues  from 
a  fixed  point  —  an  island  ?  " 

She  leaned  towards  him  with  flash- 
ing expectant  eyes. 

But  he  groaned,  and  said:  "That 
seems  impossible." 

"  Then  trample  on  it,"  said  she, 
bringing  his  own  words  against  him  ; 
for  she  used  to  remember  all  he  said 
to  her  in  the  day,  and  ponder  it  at 
night,  —  "  trample  on  it,  subdue  it,  or 
never  speak  to  me  again.  Ah,  I  am 
an  ungrateful  wretch  to  speak  so 
harshly  to  you.  It  is  my  misery,  not 
me.  Good,  kind  Mr.  Hazel,  O  pray, 
pray,  pray  bring  all  the  powers  of  that 
great  mind  to  bear  on  this  one  thing, 
and  save  a  poor  girl,  to  whom  you 
have  been  so  kind,  so  considerate,  so 
noble,  so  delicate,  so  forbearing  ;  now 
save  me  from  despair." 

Hysterical  sobs  cut  her  short  here, 
and  Hazel,  whose  loving  heart  she 
had  almost  torn  out  of  his  body,  could 
only  falter  out  in  a  broken  voice,  that 
he  would  obey  her.  "  I  '11  work  no 
more  for  you  at  present,"  said  he, 
"sweet  as  it  has  been.  I  will  think 
instead.  I  will  go  this  moment  be- 
neath the  stars  and  think  all  night." 

The  young  woman  was  now  lean- 
ing her  head  languidly  back  against 
one  of  the  trees,  weak  as  water  after 
her  passion.  He  cast  a  look  of  inef- 
fable love  and  pity  on  her,  and  with- 
drew slowly  to  think  beneath  the  tran- 
quil stars. 

Love  has  set  men  hard  tasks  in  his 
time.  Whether  this  was  a  light  one, 
our  reader  shall  decide. 

To  DIFFUSE  INTELLIGENCE  FKOM 
A  FIXED  ISLAND  OVER  A  HUNDRED 
LEAGUES  OF  OCEAN. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

The  perplexity  into  which  Hazel 
was  thrown  by  the  outburst  of  his 
companion  rendered  him  unable  to 
reduce  her  demand  at  once  to  an  in- 
telligible form.  For  some  moments 
he  seriously  employed  his  mind  on  the 
problem  until  it  assumed  this  shape. 

Firstly  :  I  do  not  know  where  this 
island  is,  having  no  means  of  ascer- 
taining either  its  latitude  or  longi- 
tude. 

Secondly:  If  I  had  such  a  descrip- 
tion of  its  locality,  how  might  tlie  news 
be  conveyed  beyond  the  limits  of  the 
place  ? 

As  the  wildness  of  Helen's  demand 
broke  upon  his  mind,  he  smiled  sadly, 
and  sat  down  upon  the  bank  of  the 
little  river,  near  his  boat-house,  and 
buried  his  head  in  his  hands.  A  deep 
groan  burst  from  him,  and  the  tears 
at  last  came  througli  his  fingers,  as  in 
despair  he  thought  how  vain  must  be 
any  ettbrt  to  content  or  to  conciliate 
her.  Impatient  with  his  own  weak- 
ness he  started  to  his  feet,  when  a 
hand  was  laid  gently  upon  his  arm. 
She  stood  beside  him. 

"  Mr.  Hazel,"  she  said,  hurriedly,  — 
her  voice  was  husky,  —  "  do  not  mind 
what  I  have  said.  I  am  unreason- 
able ;  and  I  am  sure  I  ought  to  feel 
obliged  to  you  for  all  the  —  " 

Hazel  turned  his  face  towards  her, 
and  the  moon  glistened  on  the  tears 
that  still  flowed  down  his  cheeks.  He 
tried  to  check  the  utterance  of  her 
apology ;  but,  ere  he  could  master  his 
voice,  the  girl's  cold  and  constrained 
features  seemed  to  melt.  She  turned 
away,  wrung  her  hands,  and,  with 
a  sharp  quivering  cry,  she  broke 
forth, — 

"  O  sir  !  O  Mr.  Hazel !  do  forgive 
me.  I  am  not  ungrateful,  indeed,  in- 
deed, I  am  not ;  but  I  am  mad  with 
despair.  Judge  me  with  compassion. 
At  this  moment,  those  who  are  very, 
very  dear  to  me  are  awaiting  my  ar- 
rival in  London  ;  and,  when  they  learn 
the  loss  of  the  Proserpine,  how  great 
will  be    their    misery !      Well,   that 


112 


FOUL  PLAY. 


misery  is  added  to  mine.  Tlien  my 
])oor  paj):i :  Ir-  will  iicviT  know  how 
niiicli  lie  loved  me  until  this  news 
leaehcs  him.  And  to  think  that  I 
am  dead  to  them,  yet  living!  living 
here  helplessly,  helplessly.  Dear, 
dear  Arthur,  how  you  will  snflTcr  for 
my  sake  !  O  jiapa,  papa  !  shall  I  never 
see  you  again  1  "  and  she  wept  hit- 
terly. 

"  1  am  helpless  cither  to  aid  or  to 
console  \ou,  Miss  KoUcston.  By  the 
act  of  a  Divine  Providence  you  were 
cast  upon  tliis  desolate  shore,  and  hy 
the  same  Will  I  was  appointed  to 
serve  and  to  provide  for  your  welfare. 
I  pray  God  that  he  will  give  me 
health  and  strength  to  assist  you. 
Good  night." 

!She  looked  timidly  at  him  for  a 
moment,  then  slowly  regained  her 
hut.  He  had  s|)oken  coldly,  and  wiih 
dignity.  Siie  felt  humhled,  the  more 
so  that  he  iiad  only  bowed  his  ac- 
knowledgment to  her  apology. 

For  more  than  an  hour  she  watciied 
him,  as  he  paced  up  and  down  be- 
tween the  boat-house  and  the  shore  ; 
then  he  advanced  a  little  towards  her 
shelter,  and  she  shrank  into  her  hed, 
after  gently  closing  the  door.  In  a 
few  moments  she  cnpt  again  to  peep 
forth,  and  to  see  if  he  were  still  there, 
but  he  had  disappeared. 

The  following  morning  Helen  was 
surprised  to  see  the  boat  riding  at 
anchor  in  the  surf,  and  Hazel  busily 
engaged  on  her  trim.  He  was  soon 
on  shore,  and   by  her  side. 

"  I  am  afraid  I  must  leave  you  for 
a  day,  ]\Iiss  RollestDn,"  he  said.  "I 
wish  to  make  a  circuit  of  the  island  ; 
indecil  I  ought  to  have  done  so  many 
days  ago." 

"Is  such  an  exj)edition  necessary? 
Surely  you  have  had  enough  of  the 
sea." 

"  It  is  very  necessary.  You  have 
urged  me  to  undertake  this  enter])rise. 
You  see,  it  is  the  first  step  towards 
announcing  to  all  passing  vessels  our 
presence  in  this  place.  I  have  com- 
menced operations  already.  JSce  on 
yonder    bluff,   which   1  have    called 


Telegraph  Point,  I  have  mounted  the 
boat's  ensign,  and  now  it  (luats  from 
the  top  of  the  tree  l)eside  ihe  bonhre. 
I  carried  it  there  at  sunri-^e.  Do  you 
see  that  pole  I  have  shi|>)>cd  on  lioard 
the  boat?  That  is  intcn<led  as  a  signal, 
which  shall  be  exhibited  on  your  j^reat 
])alm-tree.  Tiie  flag  will  then  stand 
for  a  signal  on  tlie  iiorihcrn  coast,  and 
the  palni-tree,  thus  accoutred,  will 
serve  for  a  similar  purpose  on  the 
western  extremity  of  the  island.  As 
I  pass  along  the  southern  and  eastern 
shores,  I  propose  to  select  sjiots  where 
some  mark  can  be  erected,  such  as 
may  be  visible  to  ships  at  sea." 

"But  will  they  remark  such  sig- 
nals ? " 

"Be  assured  they  will,  if  they  come 
within  sight  of  the  place." 

Haxel  knew  that  there  was  little 
chance  of  such  an  event ;  but  it  was 
something  not  to  be  neglected.  He 
also  exfilained  that  it  was  necessary 
he  should  arrive  at  a  knowledge  of  the 
island,  the  character  of  its  shores ; 
and  from  the  sea  he  could  rapidly  ob- 
tain a  j)lan  of  the  place,  ascertain 
what  small  rivers  there  might  be,  and, 
indeed,  see  much  of  its  inierior;  for 
he  judged  it  to  be  not  more  than  ten 
miles  in  length,  and  scarce  three  in 
width. 

Helen  felt  rather  disap]iointed  that 
no  trace  of  the  emotion  he  dis])layed 
on  the  previous  night  remained  in  his 
manner,  or  in  the  expression  of  his 
face.  She  bowed  her  permission  to 
him  rather  haughtily,  and  sat  down 
to  breakfast  on  some  baked  yams,  and 
some  rough  oysters,  which  he  had 
raked  up  from  the  Iiay  while  bathing 
tliat  morning.  The  young  man  had 
regained  an  elasticity  of  bearing,  an 
independence  of  tone,  to  which  she 
was  not  at  all  accustomed  ;  his  man- 
ners were  always  soft  and  deferential ; 
l)ut  his  expression  was  nu)re  firm.atul 
she  felt  that  the  reins  had  l)c'en  gently 
removed  from  her  possession,  and 
there  was  a  will  to  guide  lier  which 
she  was  bound  to  acknowledge  and 
obey. 

She  did  not  argue  in  this  wise,  for 


FOUL  PLAY. 


113 


it  is  not  human  to  reason  and  to  feel 
at  the  same  moment.  She  felt  then 
instinctively  that  the  man  was  quietly 
asserting  his  superiority,  and  the  child 
pouted. 

Hazel  went  ahout  his  work  briskly  ; 
the  boat  was  soon  laden  with  every 
requisite.  Helen  watched  these  prep- 
arations askance,  vexed  with  the  ex- 
jiedition  which  she  had  urged  him  to 
make.  Then  she  fell  to  retiecting  on 
the  change  that  seemed  to  have  taken 
place  in  her  character ;  she,  who  was 
once  so  womanly,  so  firm,  so  reason- 
able, —  why  had  she  become  so  petu- 
lant, childish,  and  capricious  ? 

The  sail  was  set,  and  all  ready  to 
run  the  cutter  into  the  surf  of  the  ris- 
ing tide,  when,  taking  a  sudden  reso- 
lution, as  it  were,  Helen  came  rapidly 
down,  and  said,  "  I  will  go  with  you, 
if  you  please,"  half  in  command  and 
half  in  doubt.  Hazel  looked  a  little 
surprised,  but  very  pleased  ;  and  then 
she  added,  "  I  hope  I  shall  not  be  in 
your  way." 

He  assured  her,  on  the  contrary, 
that  she  might  be  of  great  assistance 
to  him  ;  and  now  with  doubled  alac- 
rity he  ran  out  the  little  vessel  and 
leaped  into  the  prow  as  she  danced 
over  the  waves.  He  taught  her  how 
to  bring  the  boat's  head  round  with 
the  help  of  an  oar,  and,  when  all  was 
snug,  left  her  at  the  helm.  On  reach- 
ing tbe  mouth  of  the  bay,  if  it  could 
so  be  called,  he  made  her  remark  that 
it  was  closed  by  reefs,  except  to  the 
north  and  to  the  west.  The  wind  be- 
ing southerly,  he  had  decided  to  pass 
to  the  west,  and  so  they  opened  the 
sea  about  half  a  mile  from  the  shore. 

For  about  three  miles  they  perceived 
it  consisted  of  a  line  of  bluffs,  cleft  at 
intervals  by  small  narrow  bays,  the 
precipitous  sides  of  which  were  lined 
with  dense  foliage.  Into  these  fissures 
the  sea  entered  with  a  mournful  sound, 
that  died  away  as  it  crept  up  the  yel- 
low sands  with  which  th'se  nooks 
were  carpeted.  An  exclamation  from 
Helen  attracted  his  attention  to  the 
horizon  on  the  northwest,  where  a 
long  line  of  breakers  glittered  in  the 
8 


sun.  A  reef  or  low  sandy  bay  ap- 
peared to  exist  in  that  direction,  about 
fifteen  miles  away,  and  sometbing 
more  than  a  mile  in  length.  As  they 
jiroceeded,  he  marked  roughly  on  the 
side  of  his  tin  baler,  with  the  point 
of  a  pin  borrowed  from  Helen,  the 
form  of  the  coast  line. 

An  hour  and  a  half  brought  them 
to  the  northwestern  extremity  of  tbe 
island.  As  they  cleared  the  shelter 
of  the  land,  the  southerly  breeze 
coming  with  some  force  across  the 
open  sea  caught  the  cutter,  and  she 
lay  over  in  a  way  to  inspire  Helen 
with  alarm  ;  she  was  about  to  let  go 
the  tiller,  when  Hazel  seized  it,  acci- 
dentally enclosing  lier  hand  under  the 
grasp  of  his  own,  as  he  pressed  the 
tiller  hard  to  port. 

"  Steady,  please  ;  don't  relinquish 
your  hold  ;  it  is  all  right,  —  no  fear," 
he  cried,  as  he  kept  his  eye  on  their 
sail. 

He  held  this  course  for  a  mile  or 
more,  and  then,  judging  with  a  long 
tack  he  could  weather  the  southerly 
side  of  the  island,  he  put  the  boat 
ahout.  He  took  occasion  to  explain 
to  Helen  how  this  operation  was 
necessary,  and  she  learned  the  al- 
phabet of  navigation.  The  western 
end  of  their  little  land  now  lay  before 
them  ;  it  was  about  three  miles  in 
breadth.  For  two  miles  the  blutf 
coast  line  continued  unbroken  ;  then 
a  deep  bay,  a  mile  in  width  and  two 
miles  in  depth,  was  made  by  a  long 
tongue  of  sand  projecting  westerly  ; 
on  its  extremity  grew  the  gignntic 
palm,  well  recognized  as  Helen's  land- 
mark. Hazel  stood  up  in  the  boat  to 
reconnoitre  the  coast.  He  perceived 
the  sandy  shore  was  dotted  with  mul- 
titudes of  dark  objects.  Erelong, 
these  objects  were  seen  to  be  in  mo- 
tion, and,  pointing  ihem  out  to  Helen, 
with  a  smile,  he  said, — 

Beware,  Miss  Kolleston,  yonder  are 
your  bugbears,  —  and  in  some  force, 
too.  Those  dark  masses,  moving 
upon  the  hillocks  of  sand,  or  rolling 
on  the  sui-f,  are  sea-lions,  —  the  phoca 
leonina,  or  lion-seal." 


114 


FOUL  PLAY. 


Helen  strained  her  cj'cs  to  dis- 
tinguish the  forms,  hiU  only  de- 
scried the  dinixy  objects.  While 
thus  en}ra;red,  she  allowed  the  cutter 
to  fail  ott"  a  little,  and,  ere  Hazel  had 
resumed  his  hold  upon  the  tiller,  they 
were  fairly  in  the  bay ;  the  great 
palm-tree  on  their  starboard-bow. 

"  You  seem  determined  to  make 
the  acquaintance  of  your  ni;:lit- 
mares,"  he  remarked;  "you  perceive 
that  \vc  arc  embayed." 

Her  consternation  amused  him ; 
she  saw  that,  if  they  held  their  present 
course,  the  cutter  would  take  the 
beach  about  a  mile  ahead,  where 
these  animals  were  densely  crowded. 

At  this  moment,  something  dark 
bulged  up  close  beside  her  in  the  sea, 
and  the  rounded  back  of  a  monster 
rolled  over  and  disappeared.  Hazel 
let  drop  the  sail,  for  they  were  now 
fairly  in  the  smooth  water  of  the 
bay,  and  close  to  the  sandy  spit ;  the 
gigantic  stem  of  the  palm-tree  was  on 
their  quarter,  about  half  a  mile  off. 

He  took  to  the  oars,  and  rowed 
slowly  towards  the  shore.  A  sm;dl 
seal  rose  behind  the  boat  and  fol- 
lowed them,  playing  with  the  blade, 
its  gambols  resembling  that  of  a  kit- 
ten. He  pointed  out  to  Helen  the 
mild  expression  of  the  creature's  face, 
and  assured  her  that  all  this  tribe  were 
harmless  animals,  and  susceptible  of 
domestication.  The  cub  swam  up  to 
the  bo;n  quite  fearlessly,  and  he 
touched  its  head  gently  ;  he  encour- 
aged her  to  do  the  like,  but  she 
shrank  from  its  contact.  They  were 
now  close  ashore,  and  Hazel,  throwing 
out  his  anchor  in  two  feet  of  water, 
prepared  to  land  the  beam  of  wood  he 
had  brought  to  decorate  the  palm- 
tree  as  a  signal. 

The  huge  stick  was  soon  heaved 
overi)oard,  and  he  leaped  after  it. 
He  towed  it  to  the  nearest  landing  to 
the  tree,  and  dragged  it  high  up  on 
shore.  Scarcely  had  he  disposed  it 
conveniently,  intending  to  return  in  a 
day  or  two,  with  the  means  of  affixing 
it  in  a  prominent  and  remarkable 
manner,  in  the  form  of  a  spar  across 


the  trunk  of  the  palm,  when  a  cry 
from  Helen  recalled  him.  A  large 
number  of  the  sea-lions  were  coasting 
quietly  down  the  surf  towards  the 
boat ;  indeed,  a  dozen  of  them  had 
made  their  appearance  around  it. 

Hazel  shouted  to  her  not  to  fear, 
and,  desiring  that  her  alarm  should 
not  spread  to  the  swarm,  he  passed 
back  quietly  but  rapidly.  When  he 
reached  the  water,  three  or  fouiof  the 
animals  were  already  floundering  be- 
tween him  and  the  boat.  He  waded 
slowly  towards  one  of  them,  and 
stood  besiile  it.  Tlie  man  and  the 
creature  looked  quietly  at  each  other, 
and  then  the  seal  rolled  over,  \vith  a 
snuffling,  self-satisfied  air,  winking  its 
soft  eyes  with  immense  com]>lacency. 

Helen,  in  her  alarm,  could  not  re- 
sist a  smile  at  this  conclusion  of  so 
terrible  a  demonstration  ;  for,  with 
all  their  gentle  expression,  the  tusks 
of  the  brute  looked  ibrmidable.  But, 
when  she  saw  Hazel  pushing  them 
aside,  and  patting  a  very  small  cub  on 
the  back,  she  recovered  her  courage 
completely. 

Then  he  took  to  his  oars  again  ; 
and,  aided  by  the  tide,  which  was  now 
on  the  ebb,  he  rowed  round  the  south- 
western extremity  of  the  island.  He 
found  the  water  here,  as  he  antici- 
pated, very  shallow. 

It  was  midday  when  they  were 
fairly  on  the  southern  coast ;  and 
now,  sailing  with  the  wind  aft,  the 
cutter  ran  through  the  water  at  racing 
speed.  Fearing  that  some  reefs  or 
rocky  formations  might  exist  in  their 
course,  he  reduced  sail,  and  kept  away 
from  the  shore,  about  a  mile.  At  this 
distance  he  was  better  able  to  see  in- 
land, and  mark  down  the  accidence 
of  its  formation. 

The  southern  coast  was  uniform, 
and  Helen  said  it  resembled  the  cliffs 
of  the  Kentish  or  Sussex  coast  of 
England,  only  the  English  white  was 
here  replaced  by  the  pale  volcanic 
gray.  By  one  o'clock  they  came 
abreast  the  very  spot  where  they  had 
first  made  land  ;  and,  as  they  judged, 
due  south  of  their  residence.      Had 


FOUL  PLAY. 


115 


they  landed  here,  a  walk  of  three 
miles  across  the  centre  of  the  island 
would  have  brought  tliem  home. 

For  about  a  similar  distance  the 
coast  exhibited  monotonous  clitfs  un- 
broken even  by  a  rill.  It  was  plain 
that  the  water-shed  of  the  island  was 
all  northward.  They  now  approached 
the  eastern  end,  where  rose  the  circu- 
lar mountain  of  which  mention  has 
been  already  made.  'This  eminence 
had  evidently  at  one  time  been  de- 
tached from  "the  rest  of  the  land,  to 
which  it  was  now  joined  by  a  neck  of 
swamp  about  a  mile  and  a  half  in 
breadth,  and  two  miles  in  length. 

Hiizel  proposed  to  reconnoitre  this 
part  of  the  shore  nearly,  and  ran  the 
boat  close  in  to  land.  The  reeds  or 
canes  with  which  this  bog  was  densely 
clothed  grew  in  a  dark  spongy  soil. 
Here  and  there  this  waste  was  dotted 
with  ragged  trees  which  he  recog- 
nized as  the  cypress  :  from  its  gaunt 
branches  hung  a  black,  funeral  kind 
of  wee])er,  a  kind  of  moss  resembling 
iron-gray  horse-hair  both  in  texture 
and  uses,  though  not  so  long  in  the 
stapli^. 

This  parasite,  Hazel  explained  to 
Helen,  was  very  common  in  such 
marshy  ground,  and  was  the  death- 
flag  hung  out  by  N-iture  to  warn  man 
that  nnilaria  and  fever  were  the  in- 
visible and  inalienable  inhabitants  of 
that  ftital  neighhorliood. 

Looking  narrowly  along  the  low 
shore  for  some  yood  landing,  where 
under  shelter  of  a  tree  they  might  re- 
pose for  an  hour,  and  spread  their 
midday  repast,  they  discovered  an 
opening  in  the  reeds,  a  kind  of  lagoon 
or  bayou,  extending  into  the  morass 
between  the  highlands  of  the  island 
and  the  circular  mountain,  but  clo^e 
under  the  base  of  the  latter.  This 
inlet  he  proposed  to  explore,  and  ac- 
cordingly the  sail  was  taken  down,  and 
the  cutter  was  poled  into  the  narrow 
creek.  The  w  iter  here  was  so  shal- 
low thit  tlie  keel  slid  over  the  qtiick- 
sand  into  which  the  oar  sank  freely. 
The  creek  soon  became  narrow,  the 
water  deeper,  and  of  a  blacker  color, 


and  the  banks  more  densely  covered 
with  canes.  These  grew  to  the  height 
of  ten  and  twelve  feet,  and  as  close  as 
wheat  in  a  thick  crop.  The  air  felt  dank 
and  heavy,  and  hummed  with  myriads 
of  insects.  The  black  water  became 
so  deep  and  the  bottom  so  sticky  that 
Hazel  took  to  the  oars  again.  The 
creek  narrowed  as  they  proceeded,  un- 
til it  proved  scarcely  wide  enough  to 
admit  of  his  working  the  boat.  The 
height  of  the  reeds  hindered  the  view 
on  either  side.  Suddenly,  however, 
and  after  proceeding  very  slowly 
through  the  bends  of  the  canal,  they 
decreased  in  height  and  density,  and 
they  emerged  into  an  open  S])ace  of 
about  five  acres  in  extent,  a  kind  of 
oasis  in  this  reedy  desert,  created  by  a 
mossy  mound  which  arose  amidst  the 
morass,  and  afford'd  tirin  footing,  of 
which  a  grove  of  trees  and  innumer- 
able shrubs  availed  themselves.  Helen 
uttered  an  exclamation  of  delight  as 
this  island  of  foliage  in  a  sea  of 
reeds  met  her  eyes,  that  had  been  fam- 
ished with  the  arid  monotony  of  the 
brake. 

They  soon  landed. 
Helen  insisted  on  the  preparations 
for  their  meal  being  left  to  her,  and, 
having  selected  a  sheltered  spot,  she 
was  soon  busy  with  their  frugal  food. 
Hazel  surveyed  the  spot,  and,  selecting 
a  red  cedar,  was  soon  seated  forty  feet 
above  her  iiead  ;  making  a  topograph- 
ical survey  of  the  neighborhood. 
He  found  that  the  bayou  by  which 
they  had  entered  continued  its  course 
to  the  northern  shore,  thus  cutting  off 
the  mountain  or  easterly  end,  and 
forming  of  it  a  separate  island.  He 
saw  that  a  quarter  of  a  mile  farther 
on  the  bayou  or  canal  parted,  forming 
two  streams,  of  which  that  to  the  left 
seemed  the  main  channel.  This  he 
determined  to  follow.  Turning  to 
the  west,  that  is,  towards  their  home, 
he  saw  at  a  distance  of  two  miles  a 
crest  of  hills  broken  into  cliffs,  which 
defined  the  limit  of  the  main-land. 
The  sea  had  at  one  time  occupied  the 
site  where  the  morass  now  stood. 
These  cliffs  formed  a  range,  extending 


116 


FOUL  PLAY, 


from  north  to  south  :  their  precipitous 
sides,  cloilieii  here  and  there  with  trees, 
marked  where  ih(' deseent  was  hrolven 
hy  piaiforms.  Between  liim  and  this 
raIl^e  the  morass  extended.  Hazel 
toolc  note  of  three  phices  where  tiie 
deseent  from  these  hills  into  the 
marsh  eould,  he  helieved,  most  readily 
be  maile. 

On  the  eastern  side  and  elose  above 
liim  arose  thepeeuliar  mountain.  Its 
form  was  that  of  a  truncated  cone, 
and  its  sides  densely  covered  with 
trees  of  some  size. 

The  voic'C  of  Helen  called  him  from 
his  perch,  and  he  descended  <niiri<ly, 
leaping  into  a  mass  of  brushwood 
growiufr  at  the  foot  of  his  tree.  Helen 
stood  a  few  yards  from  him,  in  admira- 
tion, before  a  larixe  sliiub 

"  Look,  Mr.  Ha/.el,  what  a  singular 
production,"  said  ilic  girl,  as  she 
stooped  to  examine  the  plant.  It  bore 
a  number  of  red  flowers,  each  grow- 
iui;  out  of  a  fruit  like  a  prickly  pear. 
These  flowers  were  in  various  stages  ; 
some  were  just  oiicning  like  tulips, 
others,  more  advanced,  had  expanded 
like  umbrellas,  and  quite  overlapped 
the  fruit,  keeping  it  from  sun  and 
dew  ;  others  liad  served  their  turn  in 
that  way,  and  been  witliei-ed  by  the 
sun's  rays.  But,  wherever  this  was 
the  case,  the  fruit  iiad  also  burst  open 
and  displayed  or  discharged  its  con- 
tents, and  those  contents  looked  like 
seeds;  but  on  narrowrr  inspection 
proved  to  be  little  insects  with  pink 
transparent  wings,  and  bodies  of  in- 
credibly vivid  crimson. 

Hazel  examined  the  fruit  and  flow- 
ers very  carefully,  and  stood  rapt, 
translixed. 

"It  must  be!  —  and  it  is  !"  said 
lie.  at  last.  "Well,  I'm  glad  I've 
not  dird  without  seeing  it." 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  said  she. 

"One  of  the  most  valuable  produc- 
tions of  t!ie  eartii.  It  is  cociiineal. 
Tills  is  the  Tunal-tree." 

■'<),  indeed,"  said  Helen,  inditTer- 
ently:  "  cochineal  is  used  for  a  dye; 
but  as  it  is  not  pnibal)le  we  shall  re- 
quire to  dye  anything,  the  discovery 


seems  to  me  more  curious  than  use- 
ful." 

"  You  wanted  some  ink.  This  pig- 
ment, mixi-d  with  lime-juice,  will  form 
a  beautiful  red  ink.  Will  you  lend 
me  your  handkerchief  and  permit  mo 
to  try  if  I  have  forgotten  the  method 
by  which  these  little  insects  are  ob- 
tained 'f "  He  asked  her  to  liold  her 
handkcrcliief  under  a  bough  of  the 
Tunal-tree,  where  the  fruit  was  ripe. 
He  then  shook  the  bough.  Some  in- 
sects fell  at  once  into  the  cloth.  A 
great  number  rose  and  buzzed  a  little 
in  tlie  sun  not  a  yard  from  where  they 
were  born  ;  but  the  sun  dried  their 
hlood  so  prom])t]y  that  they  soon  fell 
dead  in  the  handkerchief  Tliose  that 
the  sun  .so  killed  went  through  three 
phases  of  color  before  their  e_yes.  They 
fell  down  black  or  nearly.  They  whit- 
ened on  the  cloth  :  and  afterthat  came 
gradually  to  their  final  color,  a  flam- 
ing crimson.  The  insect  thus  treated 
appeared  the  most  vivid  of  all. 

They  soon  secured  about  half  a  tea- 
cufifnl ;  they  were  rolled  up  and  put 
away,  then  they  sat  down  and  made 
a  very  hearty  meal,  for  it  was  now 
]«ist  two  o'clock.  They  reentered 
the  boat,  and,  passing  once  more  into 
tlie  morass,  they  found  the  channel  of 
the  bayou  as  it  a]iproached  the  north- 
ern shore  less  difficult  of  navigation. 
The  bottom  became  sandy  and  hard, 
and  the  ])resencc  of  trees  in  the  swamp 
proved  that  spots  of  terra  Jirma  were 
more  frequent.  But  the  \vater  shal- 
lowed,, and,  as  they  opened  the  shore, 
he  saw  with  great  vexation  that  the 
tide  in  receding  had  left  the  bar  at 
the  mouth  of  the  canal  visible  in  sotne 
parts.  He  jnished  on,  however,  until 
the  boat  groumled.  This  was  a  sad 
afl^air.  There  lay  the  sea  not  fifty 
yards  ahead.  Hazel  leaped  out,  and 
examined  and  forded  the  channel, 
wdiich  at  this  place  was  about  two 
hundred  feet  wide.  He  found  a  nar- 
row passage  near  the  eastern  side,  and 
to  this  he  towid  the  boat.  'J'lieii  he 
begged  Miss  KoUcston  to  land,  and 
relieved  the  boat  of  the  mast,  sail,  and 
oars.      Thus   lightened,  ho  dragged 


FOUL  PLAY. 


317 


her  into  the  passage;  but  tlie  time 
occupied  in  tliesc  prejiarations  liad 
been  iilso  oeeupicd  by  Nature, — tlie 
tide  liad  receiletl,  and  the  cuttec  siuek 
iinmovahly  in  the  water-way,  about 
six  fathoms  short  of  dee|)er  water. 

"  What  is  to  be  done  now  ? "  in- 
quired Helen,  wlien  Hazel  returned 
to  her  side,  j)antiiii,%  but  eheerful. 

"  We  must  await  the  rising  of  the 
tide.  I  fear  we  are  imprisoned  here 
(or  three  hours  at  least." 

There  was  no  help  for  it.  Helen 
mide  light  of  the  misfortune.  The 
spot  where  they  had  landed  was  en- 
closed ijetwcen  the  two  issues  of  the 
lagoon.  They  walked  along  the  shore 
to  the  more  easterly,  and  the  narrower 
canal,  and,  on  arriving.  Hazel  found 
to  his  great  annoyance  that  there  was 
ample  water  to  have  floated  the  cut- 
ter had  he  selected  that,  the  least 
piomising  road.  He  suggested  a  re- 
turn by  the  road  they  came,  and, 
passing  into  the  other  canal,  by  that 
to  reach  the  sea.  They  hurried  back, 
but  found  by  this  time  the  tide  had  left 
the  cutter  high  and  diy  on  the  sand. 
So  they  had  no  choice  but  to  wait. 

Having  three  hours  to  spare.  Hazel 
aske<l  Miss  RoUeston's  permission  to 
ascend  the  mountain.  She  assented 
to  remain  near  the  boat  while  he  was 
engaged  in  this  expedition.  The 
ascent  was  too  rugged  and  steep  for 
her  powers,  and  the  sea-shore  and 
adjacent  groves  would  find  her  ample 
amusement  during  his  absence.  She 
accompanied  him  to  the  hank  of  the 
smaller  lagoon,  which  he  forded,  and 
waving  an  adieu  to  her  he  plunged 
into  the  dense  wood  with  whii-h  the 
sides  of  the  mountain  were  clothed. 

She  waited  some  time,  and  then 
she  heard  his  voice  shouting  to  her 
from  tlie  heights  above.  The  moun- 
tain-top was  about  three  quarters  of  a 
mile  from  where  she  stood,  but  seemed 
much  ni'arcr.  She  turned  b\ck  to- 
wards the  boat,  walking  slowly,  but 
paused  as  a  faint  and  distant  cry 
again  reached  her  ear.  It  was  not 
repeated,  and  then  she  entered  the 
grove. 


The  ground  beneath  her  feet  was 
soft  with  velvety  moss,  and  the  dark 
foliage  of  the  trees  rendered  the  air 
cool  and  deliciously  fragrant.  After 
wandering  fur  some  time,  she  regained 
the  edge  of  the  grove  near  the  boat, 
and  selecting  a  spot  at  the  foot  of  an 
aged  cypress,  she  sat  down  with  her 
back  against  its  trunk.  Then  she 
took  out  Arthur's  letter,  and  began 
to  read  those  impassioned  sentences  ; 
as  she  read  she  sighed  deeply,  as 
earnestly  she  found  herself  jiitying 
Arthur's  condition  more  than  she  re- 
gretted her  own.  She  fell  into  rcvery, 
and  from  revery  into  a  drowsy  lan- 
guor. How  long  she  remained  in 
this  state  she  could  not  remeudjer,  hut 
a  slight  rustle  overhead  recalled  her 
senses.  Believing  it  to  be  a  bird 
moving  in  the  branches,  she  was  re- 
signing herself  again  to  rest,  when  she 
became  sensible  of  a  strange  emotion, 
—  a  conviction  that  something  was 
watching  her  with  a  fixed  gaze.  She 
cast  her  eyes  around,  but  saw  nothing. 
She  looked  u])wards.  From  the  tree 
immediately  above  her  lap  depended 
a  snake,  its  tail  coiled  around  a  dead 
branch.  The  reptile  hung  straight, 
its  eyes  fixed  like  two  mines  upon 
Helen's,  as  very  slowly  it  let  itself 
down  by  its  uncoiling  tail.  Now  its 
head  was  on  a  level  with  hers  ;  in 
another  moment  it  must  drop  into  her 
lap. 

She  was  paralyzed. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

After  toiling  up  a  rugged  and 
steep  ascent,  encumbered  with  blocks 
of  gray  stone,  of  wdiich  the  island 
seemed  to  be  formed,  forcing  his  way 
over  fallen  trees  and  throu!,di  the 
tangled  undergrowth  of  a  species  of 
wild  vine,  which  abounded  on  the 
mountain -side,  Hazel  stopped  to 
breathe,  and  peer  around  as  well  as 
the  dense  foliage  permitted.  He  was 
up  to  his  waist  in  scrub,  and  the  stiff 
leaves  of  the  bayonet  plant  rendered 


118 


FOUL  PLAY. 


caution  necessnrv  in  walking.  At 
moments,  throu;,^h  the  dense  folia<4e, 
he  caught  a  glisten  of  the  sea.  The 
sun  was  in  the  north  behind  him,  and 
by  this  alone  he  guided  his  road  due 
soutlierly  and  u])\vard.  Once  only 
he  found  a  small  cleared  sjjace  about 
an  acre  in  extent,  and  here  it  was  he 
uttered  the  cry  Helen  heard.  He 
waited  a  few  moments  in  the  hope  to 
hear  her  voice  in  reply,  but  it  did  not 
reach  him.  Again  he  plunged  up- 
ward, and  now  the  ascent  became  at 
times  so  arduous  that  more  than  once 
he  almost  resolved  to  relinquish,  or, 
at  least,  to  defer  his  task  ;  but  a  mo- 
ment's rest  recalled  hin^  to  himself, 
and  he  was  one  not  easily  batfled  by 
difficulty  or  labor,  so  he  toiled  on 
until  lie  judged  the  summit  ought  to 
have  been  rea<hed.  After  pausing 
to  take  breath  and  counsel,  he  fancied 
that  he  had  burne  too  much  to  the 
left,  tiie  ground  to  his  right  appeared 
to  rise  more  than  the  path  that  he 
was  pursuing,  which  had  become 
level,  and  he  concluded,  that,  instead 
of  ascending,  he  was  circling  the 
mountain-top.  He  turned  aside,  there- 
fore, and  after  ten  minutes'  hard 
climbing  he  was  pushing  through  a 
thick  and  high  scrub,  when  the  earth 
seemed  to  give  way  beneath  him,  and 
he  fell  — into  an  abyss. 

lie  was  in^iull'ed.  He  fell  from  hush 
to  bush  —  down  —  down  —  scratch  — 
ri])  —  plump!  until  he  lodged  in  a 
prickly  bush  more  winded  than  hurt. 
Out  of  this  he  crawled,  only  to  dis- 
cover himself  thus  landed  in  a  great 
and  perfectly  circular  plain  of  about 
thirty  acres  in  extent,  or  about  3.')0 
yards  in  diameter.  In  the  centre  was 
a  lake,  also  circular.  The  broad  belt 
of  shore  around  this  lake  was  covered 
with  rich  grass,  level  as  a  bowling- 
green,  and  all  this  again  was  sur- 
rounded l)y  a  nearly  pcritcndictilar 
clitf,  down  which  indcrd  he  had  fallen  : 
this  cliff  was  thickly  clothed  with 
shrubs  and  trees. 

Hazel  recognized  the  crater  of  an 
extinct  volcano. 

On  examining  the  lake   he  found 


the  waters  impregnated  with  volcanic 
products.  Its  bottom  was  formed  of 
asphaltum.  Having  nuide  a  circuit  of 
the  shores,  he  perceived  on  the  westerly 
side  —  that  next  the  island  —  a  break 
in  the  clilf ;  and  on  a  narrow  exami- 
nation he  discovered  an  outlet.  It 
a])peared  to  him  that  the  lake  at  one 
time  had  emptied  its  waters  through 
this  ancient  water-course.  The  de- 
scent here  was  not  only  gradual,  but 
the  old  river-bed  was  tolerably  free 
from  obstructions,  especially  of  the 
vegetable  kind. 

He  made  his  way  rapidly  down- 
wards, and  in  half  an  hour  reached 
marshy  ground.  The  cane-brake  now 
lay  before  him.  On  his  left  he  saw 
the  sea  on  the  south,  about  a  third  of 
a  mile.  He  knew  that  to  the  right 
must  be  the  sea  on  the  north,  about 
half  a  mile  or  so.  He  bent  his  way 
thither.  The  edge  of  the  swamp  was 
very  clear,  and,  though  somewhat 
spongy,  afforded  good  walking  unim- 
peded. As  he  approached  the  spot 
where  he  judged  the  boat  to  be,  the 
underwood  thickened,  the  trees  again 
interlaced  their  arms,  and  he  had  to 
struggle  through  the  foliage.  At 
length  he  struck  the  smaller  lagoon, 
and,  as  he  was  not  certain  whether  it 
was  fordable,  he  followed  its  course  to 
the  shore,  where  he  had  previously 
crossed.  In  a  few  moments  lie  reached 
the  boat,  and  was  jdeased  to  find  her 
afloat.  The  rising  tide  had  even 
moved  her  a  few  feet  back  into  the 
canal. 

Hazel  shouted  to  apprise  Miss  Rol- 
leston  of  his  return,  and  then  pro- 
ceeded to  restore  the  mast  to  its  pbice, 
and  replace  the  rig^ring  and  the  oars. 
This  occupied  some  little  time.  He 
felt  surprised  that  she  had  not  ap- 
peared. He  shouted  again.  No 
reply. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

Hazel  advanceil  hurriedly  into  the 
grove,  which  he  hunted  thoroughly, 
but  without  effect.     He  satisfied  him- 


FOUL  PLAY. 


119 


self  that  she  could  not  have  quitted 
tlie  spot,  since  the  marsh  enclosed  it 
oil  one  side,  the  canals  on  the  second 
and  third,  tlic  sea  on  the  fourth.  He 
returned  to  tiie  boat  more  surprised 
than  anxious.  He  waited  awiiile,  and 
again  shouted  her  name,  —  stopped, 
—  listened,  —  no  answer. 

Yet  surely  Helen  could  not  have 
been  more  than  a  hundred  yards  from 
where  he  stood.  His  heart  beat  with 
a  stranu^e  sense  of  apprehension.  He 
heard  nothing  but  the  rustlinj;  of  the 
foiiaye  and  the  sop  of  the  waves  on 
the  shore,  as  the  tide  crept  up  the 
shintjle.  As  his  eyes  roved  in  every 
direction,  he  caught  sight  of  some- 
thing white  near  the  foot  of  a  with- 
ered cypress-tree,  not  fifty  yards  from 
where  he  stood.  He  ajiproaehed  the 
bushes  in  which  the  tree  was  partially 
concealed  on  that  side,  and  quickly 
recognized  a  portion  of  Helen's  dress. 
He  ran  towards  her,  —  burst  through 
the  underwood,  and  gained  the  en- 
closure. She  was  sitting  there,  asleep, 
as  he  conjectured,  her  back  leaning 
against  the  trunk.  He  contemplated 
her  thus  for  one  moment,  and  then  he 
advanced,  about  to  awaken  her ;  but 
was  struck  speechless.  Her  face  was 
ashy  pale,  her  eyes  open  and  widely 
distended;  her  bosom  heaved  slowly. 
Hazel  approached  rapidly,  and  called 
to  her. 

Her  eyes  never  moved,  not  a  limb 
stirred.  She  sat  glaring  forward.  On 
her  lap  was  coiled  a  snake,  —  gray, 
mottled  with  muddy  green. 

Hazel  looked  round  and  selected  a 
branch  of  the  dead  tree,  about  three 
feet  in  length.  Armed  with  this,  he 
advanced  slowly  to  the  reptile.  It 
was  very  quiet,  thanks  to  the  warmth 
of  her  lap.  He  pointed  the  stick  at 
it ;  the  vermin  lifted  its  head,  and  its 
tail  began  to  quiver  ;  then  it  dart- 
ed at  the  stick,  throwing  itself  its 
entire  length.  Hazel  retreated,  the 
snake  coiled  again,  and  again  dart- 
ed. By  repeating  this  process  four 
or  five  times,  he  enticed  the  crea- 
ture away  ;  and  then,  availing  him- 
self of  a  moment  before  it  could  re- 


coil, ho  struck  it  a  smart  blow  on  the 
neck. 

When  Hazel  turned  to  Miss  Rolles- 
ton,  he  found  her  still  tixed  in  the 
attitude  into  wliich  terror  had  trans- 
tixed  her.  The  poor  girl  had  re- 
mained motionless  for  an  hour,  under 
the  terrible  fascination  of  the  reptile, 
comatized.  He  spoke  to  her,  but  a 
quick  spasmodic  action  of  her  throat 
and  a  quivering  of  her  hands  alone 
responded.  The  sight  of  her  suffer- 
ing agonized  him  beyond  expression, 
but  he  took  her  hands,  —  he  pressed 
them,  for  they  were  icy  cold,  —  he 
called  piteously  on  her  name.  But 
she  seemed  incapable  of  effort.  Then 
stooping  he  raised  her  tendfrly  in  his 
arms,  and  carried  her  to  the  boat, 
where  he  laid  her  still  unresisting 
and  incapable. 

With  trembling  limbs  and  weak 
haiuls,  he  launfhed  tiie  cutter,  and 
they  were  once  more  afloat  and  bound 
homeward. 

He  dipped  the  baler  into  the  fresh 
water  he  had  brought  with  him  for 
their  daily  supply,  and  dashed  it  on 
her  forehead.  'J'his  he  repeated  until 
he  perceived  her  breathing  became 
less  painful  and  more  rapid.  Then 
he  raised  her  a  little,  and  her  head 
rested  upon  his  arm.  When  they 
reached  the  entrance  of  the  bay  he 
was  obliged  to  pass  it.  for,  the  wind 
being  still  southerly,  he  could  not 
enter  by  the  north  gate,  but  came 
round  and  ran  in  by  the  western  pas- 
sage, the  same  by  which  they  had  left 
the  same  morning. 

Hazel  bent  over  Helen,  and  whis- 
pered tenderly  that  they  were  at  home. 
Slie  answered  by  a  sob.  In  half  an 
hour  the  keel  grated  on  the  sand 
near  the  boat-house.  Then  he  asked 
her  if  she  were  strong  enough  to 
reach  her  hut.  She  raised  her  head, 
but  she  felt  dizzy  ;  he  helped  her  to 
land ;  all  power  had  forsaken  her 
limbs  ;  her  head  sank  on  his  shoulder, 
and  his  arm,  wound  round  her  lithe 
figure,  alone  prevented  her  fiilling 
helplessly  at  liis  feet.  Again  he  raised 
her  in  his  arms  and  bore  her  to  the 


120 


FOUL  PLAY. 


hut.  Here  he  laid  her  down  on  her 
bed,  and  stood  lor  a  moment  beside 
her,  unable  to  restrain  his  tears. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

It  was  a  wretched  and  anxious 
ni^ht  for  Hazel.  He  watched  the  hut, 
without  the  coura<^c  to  approach  it. 
Tliat  one  moment  of  weakness  which 
occurred  to  him  on  board  the  Proser- 
pine, wiien  he  had  allowed  Helen  to 
perceive  the  nature  of  his  feelintrs  to- 
wards her,  had  rendered  all  his  actions 
o]ien  to  suspicion.  He  dared  not  ex- 
hibit towards  lier  any  sympathy,  — 
he  might  not  extend  to  her  the  most 
ordinary  civility  If  she  fed  ill,  if 
fever  supervened  !  how  could  he  nurse 
her,  attend  upon  her  1  His  touch 
must  have  a  signihcancc,  he  knew 
that ;  for,  as  he  bore  her  insensible 
form,  he  embraced  ratlier  than  car- 
ried tlie  precious  burden.  Could  he 
look  upon  her  in  her  suffering  without 
beirayinu;  his  forbidden  lf)ve  ?  And 
then  would  not  his  attentions  afUict 
more  than  console  ? 

Cliewiiig  the  cud  of  such  bitter 
thoughts,  he  passed  the  niglit  with- 
out noticing  the  change  which  was 
taking  ]daee  over  the  island.  The 
Pun  rose  ;  and  this  awakened  him 
from  his  revery,  which  had  replaced 
sleep  ;  he  looked  around,  and  tlien 
became  sensible  of  the  warnings  in  the 
air. 

The  seadiirds  flew  about  vaguely 
and  al)siir(lly,  and  seemetl  sporting  in 
currents  of  wind  ;  ye*  there  was  hiu 
liitle  wind  down  below.  I'resently 
clouds  came  flying  over  the  sky,  and 
blacker  masses  gathered  on  the  hori- 
zon.    The  sea  changed  color. 

Hazel  knew  the  weather  was  break- 
ing. The  wet  season  was  at  hand, 
—  the  moment  wiicn  fever,  if  such  an 
invisible  inhabitant  there  was  on  tliat 
ishind,  woulrl  visit  tiiem.  In  a  few 
hours  the  rain  would  be  upon  them, 
and  lie  reproached  himself  with  want 
of  care  in  the  construction  of  the  hut. 


For  some  hours  he  hovered  around  it, 
I)efore  he  ventured  to  ajiproach  tlic 
door,  and  call  to  Helen.  He  thought 
he  heard  her  voice  faintly,  and  ho  en- 
tered. She  lay  there  as  he  had  placed 
her.  He  knelt  beside  her,  and  was 
ap[)alled  at  the  change  in  her  appear- 
ance. 

The  poor  girl's  system  had  received 
a  shock  for  which  it  was  unpreparcil. 
Her  severe  sufii^rings  at  sea  had, 
strange  to  say,  reduced  her  in  appear- 
ance less  than  could  have  been  be- 
lieved ;  for  her  physical  endurance 
proved  greater  tlian  tliat  of  the  strong 
men  around  her.  But  the  food  which 
the  island  supplied  was  not  suited  to 
restore  her  strength,  and  the  nervous 
shock  to  which  she  had  been  sulijected 
was  followed  by  complete  prostration. 

Hazel  took  her  unresisting  hand, 
which  he  would  have  given  a  world 
to  press.  He  felt  her  pulse ;  it  was 
weak,  but  slow.  Her  cheeks  were 
hollow,  her  eyes  sunken  ;  her  hand 
dropped  helplessly  when  he  released 
it. 

Leaving  the  hut  quietly,  but  hastily, 
he  descended  the  hill  to  the  rivulet, 
which  he  crossed.  About  half  a  mile 
above  tiie  boat-house  the  stream 
forked,  one  of  its  branches  coming 
from  the  west,  the  other  from  the  cast. 
Between  this  latter  branch  and  Ter- 
ra])in  Wood,  was  a  stony  hill ;  to  this 
spot  Hazel  went,  and  fell  to  gathering 
a  handful  of  pojipics.  When  he  had 
obtained  a  sufficient  quantity  he  re- 
turned to  the  boat-house,  made  a 
small  fire  of  chips,  and,  filling  his  tin 
baler  with  watei',  he  set  down  the  poj)- 
pies  to  boil.  When  the  licpior  was 
cool,  he  measured  out  a  jiortion  and 
drank  it.  In  about  twenty  minutes 
his  temples  began  to  throb,  a  sensation 
which  was  rapidly  followed  by  nau- 
sea. 

It  w-as  midda_v  before  he  recovered 
from  the  ellects  of  his  exjicrimcnt 
sufficii'ntly  to  take  food.  Then  he 
waiteil  for  two  hours,  and  felt  much 
restored.  He  stole  to  the  hut  anil 
looked  in.  Helen  lay  there  as  he  had 
left  her.     He  stooped  over  her :  her 


FOUL  PLAY. 


121 


eyes  were  half  closed,  and  she  turned 
them  slowly  upon  him  ;  her  lips  moved 
a  little,  —  thiit  was  all.  He  felt  her 
pulse  again ;  it  was  still  weaker,  and 
slower.  He  rose  and  went  away,  and, 
regaining  the  boat-house,  he  measured 
out  a  portion  of  the  poppy  liquor,  one 
third  of  the  dose  he  hud  previously 
taken,  and  drank  it.  No  headache  or 
nausea  succeeded  ;  he  felt  his  pulse  ; 
it  became  quick  and  violent,  while  a 
sense  of  numbness  overcame  him,  and 
he  slept.  It  was  but  for  a  few  min- 
utes. He  awoke  with  a  throbbing 
brow,  and  some  sickness  ;  but  with  a 
sense  of  delight  at  the  heart,  for  he 
had  found  an  opiate,  and  prescribed 
its  quantity. 

He  drained  the  liquor  away  from  the 
poppy  leaves,  and  carried  it  to  the  hut. 
Measuring  with  great  care  a  small 
quantity,  he  lifted  the  girl's  head  and 
placed  it  to  her  lips.  She  drank  it 
mechanically.  Then  he  watched  be- 
side her,  until  her  breathing  and  her 
pulse  changed  in  character.  She 
slept.  He  turned  aside  then,  and  bur- 
ied his  face  in  his  hands  and  prayed 
fervently  for  her  life,  —  prayed  as  we 
pray  for  the  daily  bread  of  the  heart. 
He  prayed  and  waited. 


CHAPTER  XXXL 

The  next  morning,  when  Helen 
awoke,  she  was  very  weak  ;  her  head 
ached,  but  she  was  herself.  Hazel  had 
made  a  broth  for  her  from  the  fleshy 
part  of  a  turtle ;  this  greatly  revived 
her,  and  by  midday  she  was  able  to 
sit  up.  Having  seen  that  her  wants 
were  within  her  reach,  he  left  her  ;  but 
in  a  few  moments  she  heard  him 
busily  engaged  on  the  roof  of  her 
hut. 

On  his  return,  he  explained  to  her 
his  fears  that  the  structure  was  scarce- 
ly as  weather-proof  as  he  desired  ;  and 
he  anticipated  hourly  the  commence- 
ment of  the  rainy  season.  Helen 
smiled  and  pointed  to  the  sky,  which 
here  was  clear  and  bright.     i3ut  Ha- 


zel shook  his  head  doubtingly.  The 
wet  season  would  commence  probably 
with  an  atmospheric  convulsion,  and 
then  settle  down  to  uninterrupted 
rain.  Helen  refused  obstinately  to 
believe  in  more  rain  than  they  had  ex- 
perienced on  board  the  boat,  —  a  ge- 
nial shower. 

"  You  will  see,"  replied  Hazel.  "  If 
you  do  not  change  your  views  within 
the  next  three  days,  then  call  me  a 
false  prophet." 

The  following  day  passed,  and  Hel- 
en recovered  more  strength,  but  still 
was  too  weak  to  walk;  but  she  em- 
ployed herself,  at  Hazel's  request,  in 
making  a  rope  of  cocoa-nut  fibre,  some 
forty  yards  long.  This  he  required 
to  fish  up  the  spar  to  a  sufficient 
height  on  the  great  palm-tree,  and 
bind  it  firmly  in  its  place.  While  she 
worked  nimbly,  he  employed  himself 
in  gathering  a  store  of  such  things  as 
they  would  require  during  the.coming 
wintry  season.  She  watched  hira 
with  a  smile,  but  he  persevered.  So 
that  day  passed.  The  next  morning 
the  rope  was  finished.  Helen  was  not 
so  well,  and  was  about  to  help  herself 
to  the  popjjy  liquor,  when  Hazel 
happily  stopped  bet*  hand  in  time  :  he 
showed  her  the  exact  dose  necessary, 
and  explained  minutely  the  effects  of 
a  larger  draught.  Then  he  shouldered 
the  rope,  and  set  out  for  Palm-tree 
Point. 

He  was  absent  about  six  hours,  of 
which  Helen  slept  four.  And  for  two, 
which  seemed  very  long,  she  ruminat- 
ed. What  was  she  thinking  of  that 
made  her  smile  and  weep  at  the  same 
moment  ?  and  she  looked  so  impa- 
tiently towards  tiie  door. 

He  entered  at  last,  very  fatigued. 
It  was  eleven  miles  to  the  Point  and 
back.  While  eating  his  friigal  supper, 
he  gave  her  a  detail  of  his  day's  ad- 
ventures. Strange  to  say,  he  had  not 
seen  a  single  seal  on  the  sands.  He 
described  how  he  had  tied  one  end  of 
her  rope  to  the  middle  of  the  spar,  and, 
with  the  other  between  his  teeth,  he 
climbed  the  great  palm.  For  more 
than  an  hour  he  toiled  ;  he  gained  its 


122 


FOUL   PLAY. 


top,  passed  the  rope  over  one  of 
its  branches,  and  liaulcd  up  the  spar 
to  about  eighty  feet  al)Ovc  the  ground  : 
then,  descending  with  the  other  end, 
he  wound  the  rope  spirally  round  and 
round  the  tree,  thus  binding  to  its 
trunlc  the  first  twenty  feet  by  which 
the  spar  hung  from  tlie  branch. 

She  hstened  very  carelessly,  he 
thought,  and  betrayed  little  interest 
in  this  enterprise  which  had  cost  him 
so  much  labor  and  fatigue. 

When  he  had  concluded,  she  was 
silent  awhile,  and  then,  looking  up 
quickly,  said,  to  his  great  surprise,  — 
"  I  think  I  may  increase  the  dose  of 
your  medicine  there.  You  arc  mis- 
taken in  its  power.  I  am  sure  I  can 
take  four  times  what  you  gave  me." 

"  Indeed  you  arc  mistaken,"  he  an- 
swered, quickly.  "  I  gave  you  the 
extreme  measure  you  can  take  with 
sail'ty." 

"  How  do  you  know  that  ?  Y'ou  can 
only  guess  at  its  etfects.  At  any  rate, 
I  shall  try  it." 

Hazel  hesitated,  and  then  confessed 
that  he  had  made  a  little  experiment 
on  himself  before  risking  its  effects 
upon  her. 

Helen  looked  u]i  at  him  as  he  said 
this  so  simply  and  quietly.  Her  great 
eyes  filled  with  an  angelic  light.  Was 
it  admiration  ?  AVas  it  thankfulness  1 
Her  bosom  heaved,  and  her  lips 
quivered.  It  was  but  a  moment,  and 
she  felt  glad  that  Hazel  had  turned 
away  from  her  and  saw  nothing. 

A  long   silence  followed  this  little 
episode,  when  she  was  ai'oused  from 
her  revery. 
Patter  —  pat  — pat  —  patter. 
She  looked  up. 
Pat  —  patter  —  patter. 
Their  eyes  met.     It  was  the  rain. 
Hazel  only  smiled  a  little,  and  then 
ran  down  to  his  b(jat-house,  tosee  that 
all  was  riglit  there,  and  then  returned 
with  a  large   bundle   of  chips,   with 
which  he  made  a  fire,  for  the  sky  had 
darkened    overhead.     Gusts  of  wind 
ran  along  the  water  ;  it  had  become 
suddenly   chilly.     They   had   almost 
forgotten  the  feel  of  wet  weather. 


Ere  the  fire  had  kindled,  the  rain 
came  down  in  torrents,  and,  the  mat- 
ted roof  being  resonant,  they  heard 
it  strike  here  and  there  above  their 
heads. 

Helen  sat  down  on  her  little  stool 
and  reflected. 

In  that  liut  were  two  persons.  One 
had  foretold  this,  and  feared  it,  and 
provided  against  it.  The  other  had 
said  petulantly  it  was  a  bugbear. 

And  now  the  rain  was  pattering, 
and  the  Prophet  was  on  his  knees 
making  her  as  comfortable  as  he 
could  in  spite  of  all,  and  was  not  the 
man  to  remind  her  he  had  foretold 
it. 

She  pondered  his  character  while 
she  watched  his  movements.  He  put 
down  his  embers,  then  he  took  a 
cocoa-pod  out  from  the  wall,  cut  it  in 
slices  with  his  knife,  and  made  a  fine 
clear  fire ;  then  he  ran  out  again,  in 
spite  of  Helen's  remonstrance,  and 
brought  a  dozen  large  scales  of  the 
palm-tree.  It  was  all  the  more  cheer- 
ing for  the  dismal  scene  without  and 
the  pattering  of  the  rain  on  the  re- 
sounding roof. 

But,  thanks  to  Hazel's  precau- 
tion, the  hut  proved  weather-tight; 
of  which  fact  having  satisfied  him- 
self, he  bade  her  good  night.  He  was 
at  the  door  when  her  voice  recalled 
him. 

"  Mr.  Hazel,  I  cannot  rest  this 
night  without  asking  vour  ])anlon  for 
all  the  unkind  things  I  may  have 
done  and  said;  without  thanking  you 
humbly  for  your  great  forbearance 
and  your  —  respect  for  the  unhap  — 
I  mean  the  unfortunate  girl  thus  east 
upon  your  mercy." 

She  held  out  "her  hand  ;  he  took  it 
between  his  own,  and  faintly  expressed 
his  gratitude  for  her  kindness  ;  and  so 
she  sent  him  away  brimful  of  happi- 
ness. 

The  rain  was  descending  in  tOiTcnts. 
She  heard  it,  but  he  did  not  feel  it; 
for  she  had  spread  her  angel's  wings 
over  his  existence,  and  he  regained 
his  sheltered  boat-house  he  knew  not 
how. 


FOUL  PLAY. 


123 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

The  next  day  was  Sunday.  Hazel 
had  kept  a  calendar  of  the  week,  and 
every  seventh  day  was  hiid  aside  with 
jealousy,  to  be  devoted  to  such  simple 
rclitrious  exercises  as  he  could  invent. 
The  rain  still  continued,  with  less 
violence  indeed,  but  without  an  hour's 
intermission.  After  breakfast  he  read 
to  her  the  exodus  of  the  Israelites, 
and  their  sufferings  during  that  desert 
life.  He  compared  those  hardships 
with  their  own  troubles,  and  pointed 
out  to  her  how  their  condition  pre- 
sented many  things  to  be  thankful  for. 
The  island  was  fruitful,  the  climate 
healthy.  They  might  have  been  cast 
away  on  a  sandy  key  or  reef,  where 
they  would  have  perished  slowly  and 
miserably  of  hunger  and  exposure. 
Then  they  were  spared  to  each  other. 
Had  she  been  alone  there,  she  could 
not  have  provided  for  herself;  had  he 
been  cast  away  a  solitary  man,  the 
island  would  have  been  to  him  an  in- 
tolerable prison. 

In  all  these  reflections  Hazel  was 
very  guarded  that  no  expression 
should  escape  him  to  arouse  her  ap- 
prehension. He  was  so  careful  of  this, 
that  she  observed  his  caution  .and 
watched  his  restraint.  And  Helen 
was  thinking  more  of  this  than  of  the 
holy  subject  on  which  he  was  dis- 
coursing. The  disguise  he  threw  over 
his  heart  was  penetrable  to  the  girl's 
eye.  Slie  saw  his  love  in  every  care- 
ful word,  and  employed  herself  in  de- 
tecting it  under  his  rigid  manner. 
Secure  in  her  own  position,  she  could 
examine  his  from  the  loop-holes  of  her 
soul,  and  take  a  pleasure  in  witnessing 
the  suppressed  happiness  she  could 
bestow  with  a  word.  She  did  not 
wonder  at  her  power.  The  best  of 
women  have  the  natural  vanity  to  take 
for  granted  the  sway  they  assume 
over  the  existence  which  submits  to 
them. 

A  week  passed  thus,  and  Hazel 
blessed  the  rain  that  drove  them  to 
this  sociability.  He  had  prepared  the 
bladder  of  a  young  seal  which  had 


drifted  ashore  dead.  This  membrane, 
dried  in  the  sun,  formed  a  piece  of 
excellent  parciiment,  and  he  desired 
to  draw  upon  it  a  map  of  the  island. 
To  accomplish  this,  the  first  thing 
was  to  obtain  a  good  red  ink  from  the 
cochineal,  which  is  crimson.  He  did 
according  to  his  means.  He  got  one 
of  the  till  vessels,  and  filed  it  till  he 
had  obtained  a  considerable  quantity 
of  the  metal.  This  he  subjected  for 
forty  hours  to  the  action  of  lime-juice. 
He  then  added  the  cochineal,  and 
mixed  till  he  obtained  a  fine  scarlet. 
In  using  it  he  added  a  small  quantity 
of  a  hard  and  pnre  gum,  —  he  had 
found  gum  abounded  in  the  island. 
His  pen  was  made  from  an  osprey's 
feathe|p»  hundreds  of  which  were 
strewiiSfbout  the  cliffs,  and  some  of 
these  he  had  already  secured  and 
dried. 

Placing  his  tin  baler  before  him,  on 
which  he  had  scratched  his  notes,  he 
drew  a  map  of  the  island. 

"  What  shall  we  call  it  ?  "  said  he. 
Helen  paused,  and  then  replied, 
"  Call  it  '  Godsend  '  Island." 

"  So  I  will,"  he  said,  and  wrote  it 
down. 

Then  they  named  the  places  they 
had  seen.  The  reef  Helen  had  dis- 
covered off  the  northwest  coast  they 
called  "  White  Water  Island,"  be- 
cause of  the  breakers.  Then  came 
"  Seal  Bay,"  Palm-tree  Point," 
"  Mount  Lookout  "  (this  was  the  hill 
due  south  of  where  they  lived).  They 
called  the  cane-brake  "  Wild  Duck 
Swamp,"  and  the  spot  where  they 
lunched  "  Cochineal  Cleai'ing."  The 
mountain  was  named  "  Mount  CavL- 

"  But  what  shall  we  call  the  capital 
of  the  kingdom  —  this  hut  1 "  said 
Miss  Rolleston,  as  she  leaned  over 
him  and  pointed  to  the  spot. 

"  Saint  Helen's,"  said  Hazel,  look- 
ing up ;  and  he  wrote  it  down  ere  she 
could  object. 

Then  there  was  a  little  awkward 
pause,  while  he  was  busily  occupied 
in  filling  up  some  topographical  de- 
tails.    She  turned  it  off  gayly. 


124 


FOUL   PLAY. 


"  What  are  those  caterpillars  that 
Tou  hiivo  drawn  there,  sprawling  over 
my  kingdom  '.  "  she  asked. 

"  Caterpillars  !  you  are  complimen- 
tary, IMiss  KoUeston.  Tliose  are 
mountains." 

"  0,  indeed ;  and  those  lines  you 
are  now  drawing  arc  rivers,  I  pre- 
sume " 

"  Yes ;  let  us  call  this  branch  of 
our  s-olitar)'  estuary,  which  runs  west- 
ward, the  river  Lee,  and  this,  to  the 
east,  the  river  Medway.  Is  such 
your  M:ijesty's  pleasure  ?  " 

"  La  Heine  le  veut,"  replied  Helen, 
smiling.  "  But,  ALister  Geograplier, 
it  seems  to  me  that  you  are  putting 
in  mountains  and  rivers  which  you 
have  never  explored :  how  (i»  you 
know  that  these  turns  and  nvists  in 
the  stream  exist  as  you  represent 
them  ?  and  those  spurs,  which  look 
so  real,  have  you  not  added  them 
only  to  disguise  the  caterpillar  charac- 
ter of  your  range  of  hills  !  " 

Hazel  laughed  as  he  confessed  to 
drawing  on  his  fancy  for  some  little 
details.  But  pleaded  that  all  geog- 
raphers, when  they  drew  maps,  were 
licensed  to  fill  in  a  few  such  touches, 
where  discovery  had  failed  to  supply 
particulars. 

Helen  had  always  believed  religious- 
ly in  maps,  and  was  amused  when  she 
refieeted  on  her  former  credulity. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

Helen's  strength  was  coming  back 
to  her  but  slowly  ;  slie  complained  of 
great  lassitude  and  want  of  appetite. 
But,  the  following  day  having  cleared 
up,  the  sun  shone  out  with  great 
power  and  brilliancy.  She  gladly 
welcomed  the  return  of  the  fine  weath- 
er, but  Hazel  shook  his  head ;  ten 
days'  rain  was  not  their  portion,  — 
the  bad  weather  would  return,  and 
complete  the  month  or  six  weeks' 
winter  to  which  Nature  was  entitled. 
The  next  evening  the  appearance  of 
the  sky  confirmed  his  opiaion.     The 


sun  set  like  a  crimson  sfiield ;  gory, 
and  doul)lo  its  usual  size.  It  entered 
into  a  thick  bank  of  dark  violet  cloud 
that  lay  on  the  horizon,  and  seemed 
to  split  the  vapor  into  rays,  but  of  a 
dusky  kind  ;  immediately  above  this 
crimson,  the  clouds  were  of  a  brilliant 
gold,  but  higher  they  were  the  color 
of  rubies,  and  went  gradually  off  to 
gray. 

But  as  the  orb  dipped  to  the  hori- 
zon a  solid  pile  of  unearthly  clouds 
came  up  from  the  southeast ;  their 
bodies  were  singidarly  and  unnaturally 
black,  and  mottled  with  copper-color, 
and  hemmed  with  a  fiery  yellow  :  and 
these  infernal  clouds  towered  up  their 
heads,  pressing  forward  as  if  they  all 
strove  for  precedency  ;  it  was  like  Mil- 
ton's fiends  attacking  the  sky.  The 
rate  at  which  they  climbed  was  won- 
derful. The  sun  set  and  the  moon 
rose  full,  and  showed  those  angry 
masses  surging  upwards  and  jostling 
each  other  as  they  flew. 

Yet  below  it  was  dead  calm. 

Having  admired  the  sublimity  of  the 
scene,  and  seen  the  full  moon  rise,  but 
speedily  lose  her  liiiht  in  a  brassy  halo, 
they  entered  the  hut,  which  Avas  now 
the  head-(juarters,  and  they  supped  to- 
gether there. 

While  they  were  eating  their  little 
meal  the  tops  of  the  trees  were  heard 
to  sigh,  so  still  was  everything  else. 
None  the  less  did  those  strange  clouds 
fly  northward,  eighty  miles  an  hour. 
After  supper,  Helen  sat  busy  over  the 
fire,  where  some  gum,  collected  by 
Hazel,  resembling  India-rubber,  was 
boiling  ;  she  was  preparing  to  cover  a 
pair  of  poor  Welcii's  shoes,  inside  and 
out,  with  a  coat  of  this  material,  which 
Hazel  believed  to  be  water-proof.  She 
sat  in  such  a  position  that  he  could 
watch  her.  It  was  a  happy  evening. 
She  seemed  content.  She  had  got 
over  her  fear  of  him  ;  they  were  good 
comr.ules  if  they  were  nothing  more. 
It  was  happiness  to  him  to  be  by  her 
side  even  on  those  terms.  He  thought 
of  it  all  as  he  looked  at  her.  How  dis- 
tant she  had  seemed  once  to  him ; 
what    an    unapproachable    goddess. 


FOUL  PLAY. 


125 


Yet  there  she  was  by  his  side  in  a  hut 
he  hail  made  for  her. 

He  could  nut  help  sipping  the  soft 
intoxicatiiiL;  draught  her  mere  pres- 
ence otfered  him.  But  by  and  by  he 
felt  his  heart  was  dissolyins^  within 
him,  and  he  was  trifling  with  danger. 
He  must  not  look  on  her  too  long, 
seated  by  the  fire  like  a  wife.  The 
much-enduring  man  rose,  and  turned 
his  bark  upon  the  sight  he  loved  so 
dearly  :  he  went  out  at  the  open  door 
intending  to  close  it  and  bid  her  good 
ni4ht.  But  he  did  not  do  so,  just 
tlicn  ;  for  his  attention  as  an  observer 
of  nature  was  arrested  by  the  unusual 
conduct  of  certain  animals.  Gannets 
and  other  sea-birds  were  running 
about  the  opposite  wood  and  craning 
their  necks  in  a  strange  way.  He  had 
never  seen  one  enter  that  wood  be- 
fore. 

Seals  and  sea-lions  were  surround- 
ing the  slope,  and  crawling  about, 
and  now  and  then  plunging  into  the 
river,  which  they  crossad  with  infinite 
difhcuhy,  for  it  was  running  very  high 
and  strong.  The  trees  also  sighed 
louder  than  ever.  Hazel  turned  back 
to  toll  Miss  Rolleston  something  ex- 
traordinary was  going  on.  She  sat 
in  sight  from  the  river,  and,  as  he 
came  towards  the  hut,  he  saw  her  sit- 
ting by  the  tire  reading. 

He  stopped  short.  Her  work  lay 
at  her  feet :  she  had  taken  out  a  let- 
ter, and  she  was  reading  it  by  the 
fire. 

As  she  read  it  her  face  was  a  puz- 
zle. But  Hazel  saw  the  act  alone  ; 
and  a  d.ut  of  ice  seemed  to  go  through 
and  through  him. 

This,  then,  was  her  true  source  of 
consolation.  He  thought  it  was  so 
before.  He  had  even  reason  to  think 
so.  But,  never  seeing  any  palpable 
proofs,  he  had  almost  been  happy. 
He  turned  sick  with  jealous  misery, 
and  stood  there  rooted  and  frozen. 

Then  came  a  fierce  impulse  to  shut 
the  sight  out  that  caused  this  pain. 

He  almost  flung  her  portcullis  to, 
and  made  his  hands  bleed.  But  a 
bleeding  heart  does  not  feel  scratches. 


"  Good  night,"  said  he,  hoarsely. 

"  Good  night,"  said  she,  kmdly. 

And  why  should  she  not  read  his 
letter?  She  was  his  affianced  bride, 
bound  to  hinr  by  honor  as  well  as  in- 
clination. This  was  the  reflection  to 
whirh,  after  a  sore  battle  with  his 
loving  heart,  the  much-emluring  man 
had  to  come  at  last ;  and  he  had  come 
to  it,  and  was  getting  back  his  peace 
of  mind,  though  not  his  late  com- 
placency, and  about  to  seek  repose  in 
sleep,  when  suddenly  a  clap  of  wind 
came  down  like  thunder,  and  thrashed 
the  island  and  everything  in  it. 

Everything  animate  and  inanimate 
seemed  to  cry  out  as  the  blow  passed. 

Another  soon  followed,  and  an- 
other,—  intermittent  gusts  at  pres- 
ent, but  of  such  severity  that  not  one 
came  without  making  its  mark. 

Birds  were  driven  away  like  paper; 
the  sea-lions  whimpered,  and  crouched 
into  corners,  and  huddled  together, 
and  held  each  other,  whining. 

Hazel  saw  but  one  thing  ;  the  frail 
edifice  he  had  built  for  the  creature  he 
adored.  He  looked  out  of  his  boat, 
and  fixed  his  horror-stricken  eyes  on 
it ;  he  saw  it  waving  to  and  fro,  yet 
still  firm.  But  he  could  not  stay 
there.  If  not  in  danger  she  must  be 
terrified.  He  must  go  and  sup])ort 
her.  He  left  his  shelter,  and  ran  to- 
wards her  hut.  With  a  whoop  and  a 
scream  aiaother  blast  tore  through  the 
wood,  and  caught  him.  He  fell,  dug 
his  hands  into  the  soil,  and  clutched 
the  earth.  While  he  was  in  that 
position,  he  heard  a  sharp  crack  ;  he 
looked  up  in  dismay,  and  saw  that 
one  of  Helen's  trees  had  broken  like 
a  carrot,  and  the  head  was  on  the 
ground  leaping  about ;  while  a  suc- 
cession of  horrible  sounds  of  crashing, 
and  rendiuLS  and  tearing,  showed  the 
frail  hut  vyas  giving  way  on  every 
side;  racked  and  riven,  and  torn  to 
pieces.  Hazel,  though  a  stout  man, 
uttered  cries  of  terror  death  would 
never  have  drawn  from  him ;  and, 
with  a  desperate  headlong  rush,  he 
got  to  the  place  where  the  bower  had 
been;    but  now  it  was  a  prostrate 


126 


FOUL  TLAY. 


skeleton,  with  the  mat  roof  flappinf^: 
like  a  loose  sail  above  it,  and  Ilulcn 
below. 

As  he  reached  the  hut,  the  wind  <jot 
hold  of  the  last  of  the  four  shrubs, 
that  did  duty  for  a  door,  and  tore  it 
from  the  cord  that  held  it,  and  whirled 
it  into  the  air ;  it  went  past  Hazel's 
face  like  a  bird  flying. 

Though  stago-ered  himself  by  the 
same  blow  of  wind,  he  clutched  the 
tree  and  got  into  the  hut. 

He  found  her  directly.  She  was 
kneeling  beneath  the  mat  that  a  few 
minutes  ago  had  been  her  roof.  Ho 
extricated  her  in  a  moment,  uttering 
inarticulate  cries  of  pity  and  fear. 

"  Don't  be  frightened,"  said  she. 
"I  am  not  hurt." 

But  he  felt  her  quiver  from  head  to 
foot.  He  wrapped  her  in  all  her 
rugs,  and,  thinking  of  nothing  but 
her  safety,  lifted  her  in  his  strong 
arms  to  take  her  to  his  own  place, 
which  was  safe  from  wind  at  least. 

But  this  was  no  light  work.  To 
go  there  erect  was  impossible. 

Holding  tight  by  the  tree,  he  got 
her  to  the  Ice  of  the  tent  and  waited 
for  a  lull.  He  went  rapidly  down  the 
hill,  but,  ere  he  reached  the  river,  a 
gust  came  careering  over  the  sea.  A 
sturdy  young  tree  was  near  him.  He 
placed  her  against  it,  and  wound  his 
arms  round  her  and  its  trunk.  The 
blast  came  :  the  tree  bent  down  al- 
most to  tlie  ground,  then  whirled 
round,  recovered,  shivered ;  but  he 
held  firmly.  It  passed.  A;;ain  he 
lifted  her,  and  bore  her  to  the  boat- 
house.  As  he  went,  the  wind  almost 
choked  her,  and  her  long  hair  lashed 
his  fiice  like  a  whip.  But  he  got  her 
in,  and  then  sat  jianting  and  croucli- 
ing,  but  safe.  They  were  none  too 
soon  ;  the  tempest  increased  in  vio- 
lence, and  became  more  continuous. 
No  clouds,  but  a  ghastly  glare  all 
over  the  sky.  No  rebellious  waves, 
but  a  sea  hissing  and  foaming  under 
its  master's  lash.  The  river  ran  roar- 
ing and  foaming  by,  and  made  the 
boat  heare  even  in  its  little  creek. 
The  wiad,  though  it  could  no  longer 


shake  them,  went  screaming  terribly 
close  over  their  heads,  —  no  longer 
like  air  in  motion,  but,  solid  and  keen, 
it  seemed  the  Almighty's  scyilie  mow- 
ing down  Nature;  and  soon  it  be- 
came, like  turbid  water,  blackened 
with  the  leaves,  brandies,  and  frag- 
ments of  all  kinds  it  whirled  along 
with  it.  The  trees  fell  crashing  on 
all  sides,  and  tlie  remains  passed  over 
their  heads  into  the  sea. 

Helen  behaved  admirably.  Speech 
was  impossible,  but  she  thanked  him 
without  it,  —  eloquently;  she  nestled 
her  little  hand  into  Hazel's,  and,  to 
Hazel  that  ni;;ht,  with  all  its  awful 
sights  and  sounds,  was  a  blissful  one. 
She  had  lieen  in  danger,  but  now  was 
safe  1)3-  his  side.  She  had  pressed  his 
hand  to  thank  him,  and  now  she  was 
cowering  a  little  towards  him  in  a 
way  that  claimed  him  as  her  protect- 
or. Her  glorious  hair  blew  over  him 
and  seemed  to  net  him  :  and  now  and 
then,  as  they  heard  some  c'ash  nearer 
and  more  avitful  than  another,  she 
clutched  him  (juickly  though  lightly  ; 
for,  in  danger,  her  se.\  love  to  feel  a 
friend ;  it  is  not  enough  to  see  him 
near  :  and  once,  when  a  great  dusky 
form  of  a  sea-lion  came  crawling  over 
the  mound,  and  whimpering  peeped 
into  the  boat-house,  she  even  tied  to 
liis  shoulder  with  both  hands  for  a 
tnomcnt,  and  was  there,  light  as  a 
feather,  till  the  creature  had  passed 
on.  And  his  soul  was  full  of  peace, 
and  a  great  tranquillity  overcame  it. 
He  heard  nothing  of  the  wrack,  knew 
nothing  of  the  danger. 

O  mighty  Ix)ve  !  The  tempest 
might  blow,  and  fill  the  air  and  earth 
with  ruin,  so  that  it  spared  her.  The 
wind  was  kind,  and  gentle  the  night, 
which  brought  that  hair  round  his 
face,  and  that  head  so  near  his  shoul- 
der, and  gave  him  the  holy  joy  of  pro- 
tecting under  his  wing  the  soft  crea- 
ture he  adored. 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 

Os  the  morning  that  followed  this 
memorable    night,    our     personages 


FOUL  PLAY. 


127 


seemed  to  change  characters.  II;izel 
sat  down  before  the  relics  of  the  hut, 
—  three  or  four  strings  dangling,  and 
a  piece  of  network  waving,  —  and 
eyed  them  with  shame,  regret,  and 
humiliation.  He  was  so  absorbed 
in  his  self-reproaches  that  he  did  not 
hear  a  hglit  footstep,  and  Helen  Rol- 
leston  stood  near  him  a  moment  or 
two,  and  watched  the  play  of  his 
conntenancc  with  a  very  inquisitive 
and  kindly  light  in  her  own  eyes. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  she,  soothing- 
ly. 

Hazel  started  at  the  music. 
"  Never    mind   your    house    being 
blown     to    atoms,     and     mine     has 
stood  1 "     said    he,     half    reproach- 
fully. 

^^    "  You   took  too  much  paius  with 
mine." 

"  I  will  take  a  great  deal  more  with 
the  next." 

"  I  hope  not.  But  I  want  you  to 
come  and  look  at  the  havoc.  It  is 
terrible  ;  and  yet  so  grand."  And 
thus  she  drew  him  away  from  the 
sight  that  cuised  his  pain. 

They  entered  the  wood  by  a  path 
Hazel  had  cut  from  the  sea-shore,  and 
viewed  the  devastation  in  Terrapin 
Wood.  Prostrate  trees  lay  across 
one  another  in  astonishing  numbers, 
and  in  the  strangest  positions;  and 
their  glorious  plumes  swept  the  earth. 
"  Come,"  said  she,  "  it  is  a  bad  thing 
for  the  poor  trees,  but  not  for  us. 
See,  the  place  is  strewed  with  treas- 
ures. Here  is  a  tree  full  of  fans  all 
ready  made.  And  what  is  that?  A 
horse's  tail  growing  on  a  cocoa-tree  ! 
and  a  long  one  too  !  that  will  make 
ropes  for  you,  and  thread  for  me. 
Ah,  and  here  is  a  cabbage.  Poor 
Mr.  Welch!  Well,  for  one  thing, 
you  need  never  saw  nor  climb  any 
more.  See  the  advantages  of  a  hur- 
ricane." 

From  the  wood  she  took  him  to  the 
shore,  and  there  they  found  many 
birds  lying  dead  ;  and  Hazel  picked 
up  several  that  he  had  read  of  as  good 
to  eat.  For  certain  signs  had  con- 
vinced hira  his  fair  and  delicate  com- 


panion was  carnivora,  and  must  be 
nourished  accordingly.  Seeing  him 
so  employed,  she  asked  him  archly 
whether  he  was  beginning  to  see  the 
comforts  of  a  hurricane.  "  Not  yet," 
said  he ;  "  the  account  is  far  from 
even." 

"  Then  come  to  where  the  rock 
was  blown  down."  She  led  the 
way  gayly  across  the  sands  to  a  point 
where  an  overhanging  crag  had  fall- 
en, with  two  trees  and  a  quantity  of 
earth  and  plants  that  grew  above  it. 
But,  when  they  got  nearer,  she  be- 
came suddenly  grave,  and  stood  still. 
The  mass  had  fallen  upon  a  shel- 
tered place,  where  seals  where  hiding 
from  the  wind,  and  had  buried  sever- 
al ;  for  two  or  three  limljs  were  stick- 
ing out,  of  victims  overwhelmed  in 
the  ruin  ;  and  a  n)agnificent  sea-lion 
lay  clear  of  the  smaller  rubbish,  but 
quite  dead.  The  cause  was  not  far 
to  seek  :  a  ton  of  hard  rock  had  struck 
him,  and  then  ploughed  up  the  sand 
in  a  deep  furrow,  and  now  rested 
within  a  yard  or  two  of  the  animal, 
whose  back  it  had  broken.  Hazel 
went  up  to  the  creature  and  looked  at 
it :  then  he  came  to  Helen ;  she 
was  standing  aloof  "Poor  bug- 
bear," said  he.  "  Come  away  :  it  is 
an  ugly  sight  for  you." 

"  O  yes,"  said  Helen.  Then,  as 
they  returned,  "  Does  not  that  recon- 
cile you  to  the  loss  of  a  hut?  We 
are  not  blown  away  nor  crushed." 

"  That  is  true,"  said  Hazel;  "but 
suppose  your  health  should  suffer 
from  the  exposure  to  such  fearful 
weather.  So  unlucky !  so  cruel ! 
just  as  you  were  beginning  to  get 
stronger." 

"  I  am  all  the  better  for  it.  Shall 
I  tell  you  ?  excitement  is  a  good 
thing ;  not  too  often,  of  course ;  but 
now  and  then  ;  and,  when  we  are  in 
the  humor  for  it,  it  is  meat  and  drink 
and  medicine  to  us." 

"  What !  to  a  delicate  young  la- 
dy ?  " 

"  Ay,  '  to  a  delicate  young  lady.' 
Last  night  has  done  me  a  world  of 
good.     It  has  shaken  me  out  of  my- 


128 


FOUL   PLAY. 


self.  I  am  in  better  health  and  spir- 
its. Of  course  I  am  very  sorry  the 
hut  is  blown  down,  —  because  you 
took  so  much  trouble  to  build  it :  but, 
on  my  own  account,  I  really  don't 
care  a  straw.  Find  me  some  corner 
to  nestle  in  at  night,  and  all  day  I 
mean  to  be  about,  and  busy  as  a  bee, 
helping  you,  and —  Breakfast!  break- 
fast !  0  how  huufrry  I  am."  And 
this  spirited  girl  led  the  way  to  the 
boat  with  a  briskness  and  a  vigor  that 
charmed  and  astonished  liim. 

Souvent  femme  varie. 

This  gracious  behavior  did  not  blind 
Hazel  to  the  serious  character  of  the 
situation,  and  all  In-eakfast  time  he 
was  thinkhig  and  thinking,  and  oftei"i 
kept  a  morsel  in  his  mouth,  and  for- 
got to  eat  it  for  several  seconds,  he 
was  so  anxious  and  puzzled.  At  last 
he  said,  "  I  know  a  large  hollow  tree 
with  apertures.  If  I  were  to  close 
them  all  but  one,  and  keep  that  for 
the  door  ?  No  :  trees  have  betrayed 
me;  1  'II  never  trust  another  tree  with 
you.  Stay;  I  know  —  I  know  —  a 
cavern.  He  uttered  the  verb  rather 
loudly,  but  the  substantive  with  a 
sudden  feebleness  of  intonation  that 
was  amusimc.  His  timidity  was  su- 
perfluous ;  if  he  iiad  said  he  knew  "a 
bank  whereon  the  wild  thyme  grows," 
the  suggestion  would  have  been  well 
received  that  morning. 

"  A  cavern  !  "  cried  Helen.  "  It 
has  always  been  the  dream  of  my  life 
to  live  in  a  cavern." 

Hazel  brightened  up.  But  the  next 
moment  he  clouded  again.  "  But  I 
forgot.  It  will  not  do ;  there  is  a 
spring  running  right  through  it ;  it 
comes  down  nearly  per])('ndicular 
througli  a  cluumel  it  has  liored,  or 
enlarged  ;  and  splashes  on  the  floor." 

"  How  convenient !  "  said  Helen; 
"  now  I  shall  have  a  bath  in  my  room, 
instead  of  having  to  go  miles  for  it. 
By  the  by,  now  you  have  invented  the 
shower-bath,  please  discover  Soap. 
Kot  that  one  really  wants  any  in  this 
island  ;  for  there  is  no  dust,  and  the 
very  air  seems  purifying.     But  Mho 


can  shake  off  the  prejudices  of  early 
education  1 " 

Hazel  said,  "  Xow  I  '11  laugh  as 
much  as  you  like,  when  once  tiiis  care 
is  off  my  mind." 

He  ran  off  to  the  cavern,  and  found 
it  spacious  and  safe ;  i)nt  the  spring 
was  falling  in  great  force,  and  the  roof 
of  tlie  cave  glistening  with  moisture. 
It  looked  a  hopeless  case.  But  if 
Necessity  is  the  mother  of  Invention, 
surely  Love  is  the  father.  He  mounted 
to  the  rock  above,  and  found  the  spot 
where  the  spring  suddenly  descended 
into  the  earth  with  the  loudest  gurglo 
he  had  ever  heard  ;  a  gurgle  of  defi- 
ance. Nothing  was  to  be  done  there. 
But  he  traced  it  upwards  a  little  way, 
and  found  a  place  wliete  it  ran  beside 
a  deep  decline.  "Aha,  my  friend!" 
said  he.  He  got  his  spade,  and  with 
some  hours'  hard  work  dug  it  a  fresh 
channel,  and  carried  it  away  entirely 
from  its  course.  He  returned  to  the 
cavern.  Water  Avas  dripjting  very 
fast ;  but,  on  looking  up,  he  could  see 
the  light  of  day  twinkling  at  the  top 
of  the  spiral  watercourse  he  had  robbed 
of  its  supjdy.  Then  he  conceived  a 
trul}'  original  idea :  why  not  turn  his 
empty  watercourse  into  a  chimnev, 
and  so  give  to  one  element  what  lie 
had  taken  from  another?  He  had  no 
time  to  execute  this  just  then,  for  the 
tide  was  coming  in,  and  he  could  not 
afford  to  lose  any  one  of  those  dead 
animals.  So  he  left  the  funnel  to  drip, 
that  being  a  process  he  had  no  means 
of  expediting,  and  moored  the  sea- 
lion  to  the  very  rock  that  had  killed 
him,  and  was  proceeding  to  dig  out 
the  seals,  when  a  voice  he  never  could 
hear  without  a  thrill  summoned  him 
to  dinner. 

It  was  a  plentiful  repast,  and  in- 
cluded roast  pintado  and  cabbage- 
])alm.  Helen  Eollcston  informed 
him  during  dinner  that  he  would 
no  longer  be  allowed  to  monopolize 
the  labor  attendant  upon  their  condi- 
tion. 

"  No,"  said  she,  "you  are  always 
working  for  me,  and  1  shall  work  for 
you.       Cooking   and   washing  arc  a 


FOUL   PLAY. 


129 


•woman's  ■work,  not  a  man's ;  and  so 
are  jilaitinLT  and  netting." 

Thirf  healthy  resolution  once  formed 
was  adhered  to  with  a  constancy  that 
belonged  to  the  girl's  character.  The 
roof  of  the  ruined  hut  came  ashore 
in  the  bay  that  evening,  and  was 
fastened  over  the  boat.  Hazel  lighted 
a  bonfire  in  the  cavern,  and  had 
the  satisfaction  of  seeing  some  of 
the  smoke  issue  above.  But  he 
would  not  let  Miss  Rolleston  occujiy 
it  yet.  He  shifted  her  things  to  the 
boat,  and  slept  in  the  cave  liimself. 
However,  he  lost  no  time  in  laying 
down  a  great  hearth,  and  built  a  fire- 
place and  chimney  in  the  cave.  The 
chimney  went  up  to  the  hole  in  the 
arch  of  the  cave  ;  then  came  the 
stone  funnel,  stolen  from  Nature  ;  and 
above,  on  the  upper  surface  of  the 
cliff,  came  the  chimney-pot.  Thus 
the  chimney  acted  like  a  German 
stove :  it  stood  in  the  centre,  and 
soon  made  the  cavern  very  dry  and 
warm,  and  a  fine  retreat  during  the 
rains.  When  it  was  ready  for  oc- 
cupation, Helen  said  she  would  sail 
to  it :  she  would  not  go  by  land  ; 
that  was  too  tame  for  her.  Hazel 
had  only  to  comply  with  her  humor, 
and  at  high  water  they  got  into  the 
boat,  and  went  down  the  river  into 
the  sea  with  a  rush  that  made  Helen 
wince.  He  soon  rowed  her  across 
the  bay  to  a  point  distant  not  more 
than  fifty  yards  from  the  cavern,  and 
installed  her.  But  he  never  returned 
to  the  river  ;  it  was  an  inconvenient 
place  to  make  excursions  from  ;  and, 
besides,  all  his  work  was  now  either 
in  or  about  the  cavern  ;  and  that 
convenient  hurricane,  as  Helen  called 
it,  not  only  made  him  a  builder 
again  ;  it  also  made  him  a  currier,  a 
soap-boiler,  and  a  salter.  So  they 
drew  the  boat  just  above  hi'ih-water 
mark  in  a  sheltered  nook,  and  he 
set  up  his  arsenal  ashore. 

In  this  situation,  day  glided  by 
after  day,  and  week  after  week,  in 
vigorous  occupations,  brightened  by 
social  intercourse,  and  in  some  de- 
gree by  the  beauty  and  the  friendship 
9 


of,  the  animals.  Of  all  this  industry 
we  can  only  afford  a  brief  summary. 
Hazel  fixed  two  uprights  at  each 
side  of  the  cavern's  mouth,  and  con- 
nected each  pair  by  a  beam  ;  a  netting 
laid  on  these,  and  covered  with  gi- 
gantic leaves  from  the  prostrate 
palms,  made  a  sufficient  roof  in  this 
sheltered  spot.  On  this  terrace  they 
could  sit  even  in  the  rain,  and  view 
tiie  sea.  Helen  cooked  in  the  cave, 
but  served  dinner  up  on  this  beauti- 
ful terrace.  So  now  she  had  a  But 
and  a  Ben,  as  the  Scotch  say.  He 
got  a  hogsliead  of  oil  from  the  sea- 
lion  ;  and  so  the  cave  was  always 
lighted  now,  and  that  was  a  great 
comfort,  and  gave  them  more  hours 
of  in  -  door  employment  and  con- 
versation. The  poor  bugbear  really 
brightened  their  existence.  Of  the 
same  oil,  boiled  down  and  mixed 
with  wood-ashes,  he  made  soap,  to 
Helen's  great  delight.  The  hide  of 
this  animal  was  so  thick  he  could  do 
nothing  witli  it  but  cut  off  pieces  to 
make  tiie  soles  of  shoes  if  required, 
But  the  seals  were  miscellaneous 
treasures  ;  he  contrived  with  guano 
and  aromatics  to  curry  their  skins  ; 
of  their  bladders  he  made  vile  parch- 
ment, and  of  their  entrails  gut,  cat- 
gut, and  twine,  beyond  compare.  He 
salted  two  cubs,  and  laid  up  the  rest 
in  store,  by  enclosing  large  pieces  in 
clay.  When  tiiese  were  to  be  used, 
the  clay  was  just  put  into  hot  em- 
bers for  some  hours,  then  broken,  and 
the  meat  eaten  with  all  its  juices 
preserved. 

Helen  cooked  and  washed,  and 
manufactured  salt ;  and  collected 
quite  a  stoie  of  wild  cotton,  though 
it  grew  very  sparingly,  and  it  cost  her 
hours  to  find  a  few  pods.  But  in 
hunting  for  it  she  found  other  things, 
—  health  for  one.  After  sunset  she  was 
generally  employed  a  couple  of  hours 
on  matters  which  occupy  the  fair  in 
every  situation  of  life.  She  made 
herself  a  sealskin  j;icket  and  pork- 
pie  hat.  She  made  Mr.  Hazel  a 
man's  cap  of  seal  skin  with  a  point. 
But    her   great   work  was  with   the 


130 


FOUL   FLAY. 


cotton,  which  will  be  described  hei;e- 
after. 

However,  for  two  hours  after  sun- 
set, no  more  (they  rose  at  peep  of 
day),  her  physician  allowed  her  to  sit 
and  work  ;  which  she  did,  and  often 
smiled,  wliilo  he  sat  by  and  dis- 
coursed to  her  of  all  the  things  he 
had  read,  and  surprised  himself  hj 
the  strength  and  activity  of  his  mem- 
ory. He  attributed  it  partly  to  the 
air  of  the  island.  Nor  were  his 
fingers  idle  even  at  night.  He  had 
tools  to  sharpen  for  the  morrow,  glass 
to  make  and  polisli  out  of  a  laminated 
crystal  he  had  found.  And  then  the 
hurricane  had  blown  away,  amongst 
many  properties,  his  map  ;  so  he  liad 
to  make  another  with  similar  mate- 
I'ials.  He  completed  the  map  in  due 
course,  and  gave  it  to  Helen.  It  was 
open  to  the  same  strictures  she  had 
passed  on  the  other.  Hazel  was  no 
chartographer.  Yet  this  time  she  had 
nothing  but  praise  for  it.  How  was 
that  1 

To  the  reader  it  is  now  presented, 
not  as  a  specimen  of  chartographic 
art,  but  as  a  little  curiosity  in  its  way, 
being  a  fae-simile  of  tlie  map  John 
Hazel  drew  for  Helen  Kollcston  with 
such  out-of-the-way  materials  as  tliat 
out-of-the-way  island  attbrded.  Above 
all,  it  will  enable  the  reader  to  follow 
our  personages  in  their  little  excur- 
sions past  and  future,  and  also  to 
trace  the  course  of  a  mysterious  event 
we  have  to  record. 

Relieved  of  other  immediate  cares, 
Hazel's  mind  had  time  to  dwell  upon 
the  problem  Helen  had  set  him  ;  and 
one  fine  day  a  conviction  struck  him 
that  he  had  taken  a  narrow  and 
puerile  view  of  it,  and  that,  after  all, 
there  must  be  in  the  nature  of  things 
some  way  to  attract  sliijis  from  a  dis- 
tance. Possessed  with  this  thought, 
he  went  up  to  Telegraph  Point,  ab- 
stracted his  mind  from  all  external 
objects,  and  fi.xcd  it  on  this  idea,  — 
but  came  down  as  lie  went.  He  de- 
scended by  some  steps  he  had  cut  zig- 


zag for  Helen's  use,  and  as  he  put  his 
foot  on  the  fifth  step,  —  wlioo  — 
whir  —  whiz  —  came  nine  ducks, 
cooling  his  head,  they  whizzed  so 
close  ;  and  made  right  for  the  la- 
goons. 

"  Hum  !  "  thought  Hazel ;  "  I  never 
see  you  ducks  fly  in  any  other  direc- 
tion l)ut  that." 

This  speculation  rankled  in  him 
all  night,  and  he  told  Helen  he  should 
reconnoitre  at  daybreak,  but  should 
not  take  her,  as  there  might  he  snakes. 
He  made  the  boat  ready  at  daybreak, 
and  certain  gannets,  pintadoes,  boo- 
bies, and  noddies,  and  divers  with 
eyes  in  their  heads  like  fiery  jewels, 
—  birds  whose  greedy  maws  he  had 
often  gratified,  —  chose  to  fanc_y  he 
must  be  going  a  fishing,  and  were  on 
the  alert,  and  rather  troublesome. 
However,  he  got  adrift,  and  ran  out 
through  North  Gate,  with  a  light 
westerly  breeze,  followed  by  a  whole 
fleet  of  birds.  These  were  joined  in 
due  course  by  another  of  his  satellites, 
a  young  seal  he  called  Tommy,  also 
fond  of  fishing. 

The  feathered  convoy  soon  tailed 
oflp;  but  Tommy  stuck  to  him  for 
about  eight  miles.  He  ran  that  dis- 
tance to  have  a  nearer  look  at  a  small 
island  which  lay  due  north  of  Tel- 
egraph Point.  He  satisfied  himself 
it  was  little  more  than  a  very  long, 
large  reef,  the  neighboihood  of  which 
oiiglit  to  be  avoided  by  ships  of  bur- 
den, and,  resolving  to  set  some  beacon 
or  other  on  it  erelong,  he  christened 
it  White  Water  Island,  on  account  of 
the  surf  :  he  came  about  and  headed 
for  the  East  Hlufi". 

Then  Tommy  gave  him  up  in  dis- 
gust ;  ])erhaps  thought  his  conduct 
vacillating.     Animals  all  despise  that. 

He  soon  landed  almost  under  the 
volcano,  and  moored  his  boat  not  far 
fiom  a  clitf  peaked  with  guano.  E.x- 
crcising  due  caution  tliis  time,  he  got 
up  to  the  lai:oons,  atul  found  a  great 
many  ducks  swimming  about.  He 
approached  little  parties  to  examine 
their  varieties.  They  all  swam  out 
of  his  way  ;  some  of  them  even  flew 


FOUL  PLAY. 


131 


132 


FOUL  PLAY, 


a  few  yards,  and  tlicn  settled.  Not 
one  would  let  him  come  within  forty 
yards.  This  convinced  H;i/,el  the 
ducks  were  not  natives  of  the  island, 
but  strani^^M-s,  who  were  not  much 
afraid,  because  they  had  never  been 
moksteil  on  this  particular  island ; 
but  still  distrusted  man. 

While  he  pondered  thus,  there  was 
a  great  noise  of  wings,  and  about  a 
dozen  ducks  flew  over  his  head  on  the 
rise,  and  passed  westward  still  rising 
till  they  got  into  the  high  current-;, 
and  away  upon  the  wings  of  the  wind 
for  distant  lands. 

The  grand  rush  of  their  wings, 
and  the  olf-hand  way  in  which  they 
spurned,  abandoned,  and  di^ajjpeared 
from  an  island  that  held  iiim  tight, 
made  Hazel  feel  very  small.  His 
thoughts  took  the  form  of  Satire. 
"  Lords  of  the  creation,  are  we  ?  We 
sink  in  water  ;  in  air  we  tumble  ;  on 
earth  we  stumble." 

These  pleasing  reflections  did  not 
prevent  his  taking  their  exact  line  of 
flight,  and  barking  a  tree  to  mark  it. 
He  was  about  to  leave  the  place,  when 
he  heard  a  splashing  not  far  from 
him,  and  there  was  a  duck  jumping 
about  on  the  water  in  a  strange  way 
Hazel  thought  a  snake  had  got  hold 
of  her,  and  ran  to  her  assistance.  He 
took  her  out  of  the  water  and  soon 
found  what  was  the  matter ;  her  bill 
was  open,  and  a  tisli's  tail  was  sticking 
out.  Hazel  inserted  his  ringer  and 
dragged  out  a  small  tish  which  had 
erected  the  spines  on  its  back  so  op- 
portunely as  nearly  to  kill  its  destroy- 
er. The  duck  recovered  enough  to 
quack  in  a  feelile  and  dubious  manner. 
Hazel  kejjt  her  for  Helen,  because  she 
was  a  j)laiu  brown  duck.  With  some 
little  reluctance  he  slightly  shortened 
one  wing,  and  stowed  away  his  cap- 
tive in  the  hold  of  the  boat. 

He  hapiK'iied  to  have  a  great  stock 
of  pitch  in  the  boat,  so  he  employed 
a  few  hours  in  writing  upon  the  guano 
rocks.  On  one  he  wrote  in  huge  let- 
ters :  — 

AN    ENGLISH    LADV   WRECKED  HERE. 
HASTE    TO    IIEK    KESCUE. 


On  another  ho  wrote  in  small  let- 
ters :  — 

BEWARE  Tim  REEFS  .ON    THE  NORTH 

HIDE. 

LIE  OFF  F'OR  SIGNALS. 

Then  he  came  home  and  beached 
the  boat,  and  brought  Helen  his  cap- 
tive. 

"Why,  it  is  an  English  duck!" 
she  cried,  and  was  enraptured. 

By  this  visit  to  the  lagoons.  Hazel 
gathered  that  this  island  was  a  half- 
way house  for  migrating  birds,  espe- 
cially ducks  ;  and  he  inferred  tiiat  the 
line  tiiose  vagrants  had  taken  was  the 
shortest  way  from  this  island  to  the 
nearest  land.  This  was  worth  know- 
ing, and  set  his  brain  working.  He 
begged  Helen  to  watch  for  the  return 
of  the  turtledoves  (they  had  all  left 
the  island  just  hefure  the  rain)  and 
learn,  if  possible,  from  what  point  of 
the  com])ass  they  arrived. 

The  next  expedition  was  under- 
taken to  please  Helen  ;  she  wished  to 
examine  the  beautiful  creeks  and 
caves  on  the  north  side,  which  they 
had  seen  from  a  distance  when  they 
sailed  round  the  island. 

They  started  on  foot  one  delight- 
ful day,  and  walked  briskly,  for  the 
air,  though  balmy,  was  exhilarating. 
They  followed  the  course  of  the  river 
till  they  came  to  the  lake  that  fed  it, 
and  was  led  itself  by  hundreds  of  lit- 
tle natural  gutters  down  which  the 
hills  discharged  the  rains.  This  was 
new  to  Helen,  though  not  to  Hazel : 
she  produced  the  map,  and  told  the 
lake  slyly  that  it  was  incorrect,  a  lit- 
tle too  big.  She  took  some  of  the 
water  in  her  hand,  sprinkled  the  lake 
with  it,  and  called  it  Hazelmere. 
They  bore  a  little  to  the  right,  and 
proceeded  till  they  found  a  creek 
shaped  like  a  wedge,  at  whose  broad 
end  shone  an  arch  of  foliage  studded 
with  flowers,  and  the  sparkliTig  blue 
water  jieeped  behind.  This  was 
temi)ting,  but  the  descent  was  rather 
hazardous  at  first ;  great  square  blocks 
of  rock,  one  below  another,  and  these 
rude  steps  were  coaled  with  mosses 
of  rich   hue,    but   wet   and  slippery; 


FOUL  PLAY. 


133 


Hazel  began  to  be  alarmed  for  his 
companion.  However,  after  one  or 
two  dithculties,  the  tissure  opened 
wider  to  the  sun,  and  tliey  descended 
from  the  slimy  rocks  into  a  sloping 
hot-bed  of  exotic  flowers,  and  those 
huge  succulent  leaves  tiiat  are  tlie 
glory  of  the  tropics.  The  ground 
was  carpeted  a  yard  deep  with  their 
luxuriance,  and  others,  more  aspiring, 
climbed  the  warm  sides  of  the  diverg- 
ing clifls,  just  as  creepers  go  u])  a 
wall,  lining  every  crevice  as  they  rose. 
In  this  blessed  spot,  warmed,  yet  not 
scorched,  by  the  tropical  sun,  and 
fed  with  trickling  waters,  was  seen 
what  marvels  "  boon  Nature  "  can  do. 
Here  our  vegetable  dwarfs  were  giants, 
and  our  flowers  were  trees.  One 
lovely  jiiantess  of  the  jasmine  tribe, 
but  with  flowers  shaped  like  a  mari- 
gold, and  scented  like  a  tul)erose,  had 
a  stem  as  thick  as  a  poplar,  and  carried 
its  thousand  buds  and  amber-colored 
flowers  up  eighty  feet  of  broken  rock, 
and  planted  on  every  ledge  suckers, 
that  flowered  again,  and  tilled  the  air 
witli  perfume.  Another  tree  about 
half  as  higli  was  covered  with  a  cas- 
cade of  snow-white  tulips,  each  as  big 
as  a  small  flower-pot,  and  scented  like 
honeysuckle.  An  aloe,  ten  feet  high, 
blossomed  in  a  corner,  unheeded 
among  loftier  beauties.  And  at  the 
very  mouth  of  the  fissure  a  huge  ba- 
nana leaned  across,  and  flung  out  its 
vast  leaves,  that  seemed  translucent 
gold  against  the  sun;  under  it  shone 
a  monstrous  cactus  in  all  her  pink  and 
crimson  glory,  and  through  the  maze 
of  color  streamed  the  deep  blue  of  the 
peaceful  ocean,  laughing,  and  catch- 
ing sunbeams. 

Helen  leaned  against  the  cliff  and 
quivered  with  delight,  and  that  deep 
sense  of  flowers  that  belongs  to  your 
true  woman. 

Hazel  feared  she  was  ill. 

"  111  ?  "  said  she.  "  Who  coiM  be 
ill  here  "?  It  is  heaven  upon  earth. 
0  you  dears !  O  you  loves !  And 
they  all  seemed  growing  on  the  sea, 
and  floating  in  the  sun." 

"And  it  is  only  one  of  a  dozen 


such,"  said  Hazel.  "If  you  would 
like  to  inspect  them  at  your  leisure, 
I'll  just  run  to  Palm-tree  Point;  for 
my  signal  is  all  askew.  I  saw  that 
as  we  came  along. 

Helen  assented  readily,  and  he  ran 
oflf;  but  left  her  the  provisions.  She 
was  not  to  wait  dinner  for  him. 

Helen  examined  two  or  three  of  the 
flowery  fissures,  and  found  fresh  beau- 
ties in  each,  and  also  some  English 
leaves,  that  gave  her  pleasure  of 
another  kind  ;  and,  alter  she  had  rev- 
elled iu  the  flowers,  she  examined 
the  shore,  and  soon  discovered  that 
the  rocks  which  abounded  here 
(though  there  were  also  large  patches 
of  clear  sand)  were  nearly  all  pure 
coral,  i.i  great  variety.  Red  coral  was 
abundant;  and  even  the  pink  coral, 
to  which  fasliioii  was  just  then  giving 
a  fictitious  value,  was  there  by  the 
ton.  This  interested  her,  and  so  did 
some  beautiful  shells  that  lay  spar- 
kling. The  time  passed  swiftly  ;  and 
she  was  still  busy  in  her  researches, 
when  suddenly  it  darkened  a  little, 
and,  looking  back,  she  saw  a  white 
vapor  stealing  over  the  cliff,  and  curl- 
ing down. 

Upon  this  she  thought  it  prudent 
to  return  to  the  place  where  Hazel 
had  left  her;  the  more  so  as  it  was 
near  sunset. 

The  va]3or  descended  and  spread 
and  covered  sea  and  land.  Then  the 
sun  set :  and  it  was  darkness  visible. 
Coming  from  the  south,  the  sea-fret 
caught  Hazel  sooner  and  in  a  less 
favorable  situation.  Returning  from 
the  palm-tree,  he  had  taken  the  short- 
est cut  through  a  small  jungle,  and 
been  so  impeded  by  the  scrub,  that, 
when  he  got  clear,  the  fog  was  upon 
him.  Between  that  and  the  river  he 
lost  his  way  several  times,  and  did 
not  hit  the  river  till  near  midnight. 
He  followed  the  river  to  the  lake,  and 
coasted  the  lake,  and  then  groped  his 
way  towards  the  creek.  But,  after  a 
while,  every  step  he  took  was  fraught 
with  danger;  and  the  night  was  far 
advanced  when  be  at  last  hit  off  the 
creek,  as  he  thought.     He  halloed ; 


134 


FOUL  PLAY. 


but  there  was  no  reply  ;  halloed  again, 
and,  to  his  jay,  her  voice  rejilied  ;  but 
at  a  distance.  He  liad  come  to  the 
wrong  creek.  She  was  farther  west- 
ward, lie  groped  his  way  westward, 
and  came  to  anotlier  creek.  He  hal- 
loed to  her,  and  she  answered  liini. 
But  to  attempt  the  descent  would  have 
been  mere  suicide.  She  felt  that  her- 
self, and  almost  ordered  him  to  st;iy 
where  he  was. 

"  Why,  we  can  talk  all  the  same," 
said  she  ;  "  and  it  is  not  for  long." 

It  was  a  curious  position,  and  one 
typical  of  the  relation  l)etwecn  them. 
•So  near  together,  yet  the  barrier  so 
strong. 

"  I  am  afraid  you  must  be  very 
cold,"  said  he. 

"  0  no  ;  I  have  my  sealskin  jacket 
on  ;  and  it  is  so  shehend  here.  I 
wisii  you  were  as  well  off'." 

"  You  are  not  afraid  to  be  alone 
down  there  ■?  " 

"  I  am  not  alone  when  your  voice 
is  near  me.  Now  don't  you  fidget 
yourself,  dear  friend.  I  like  these 
little  excitements.  I  have  told  yon  so 
before.  Listen  :  how  cahn  and  silent 
it  all  is  ;  the  place  ;  the  night !  'I'he 
mind  seems  to  till  with  great  ideas, 
and  to  feel  its  immortality." 

She  spoke  with  solemnity,  and  he 
heard  in  silence. 

Indeed  it  was  a  reverend  time  and 
place  :  the  sea,  whose  loud  and  ])eiic- 
trating  tongue  had,  in  some  former 
age,  created  the  gully  where  they 
both  sat  apart,  had  of  late  years  re- 
ceded, and  kissed  the  sands  gently 
that  calm  night :  so  gently,  that  its 
long,  low  nuirmur  seemed  but  the 
echo  of  tranquillity. 

The  voices  of  that  pair  sounded 
stipcrn:uural,  one  speaking  up,  and 
the  other  down,  the  speakers  quite  in- 
visible. 

"  Mr.  Hazel,"  said  Helen,  in  a  low, 
earnest  voice  ;  "  they  .say  that  Night 
gives  wisdom  even  to  the  wise;  thiid< 
now,  and  tell  me  your  true  thoughis. 
Has  the  foot  of  man  ever  trod  npon 
this  island  before  ?  " 

There  was  a  silence  due  to  a  ques- 


tion so  grave,  and  put  with  solemnity, 
at  a  solemn  time,  in  a  solemn  place. 

At  last  Hazel's  thoujihtful  voice 
came  down.  "  The  world  is  very, 
very,  very  old.  So  old,  that  the 
words  '  Ancient  History  '  are  a  false- 
hood, and  Moses  wrote  but  as  yester- 
day. And  man  is  a  very  old  animal 
upon  this  old,  old  planet;  and  has 
been  everywhere.  I  cannot  doubt  he 
has  been  here." 

Her  voice  went  up.  "  But  have 
you  seen  any  signs  1  " 

His  voice  came  down.  "I  have 
not  looked  for  them.  The  bones  and 
the  weapons  of  primeval  man  are  all 
below  earth's  surface  at  this  time  of 
day." 

There  was  a  dead  silence.  Then 
Helen's  voice  went  up  again.  "  But 
in  modern  times  ?  Has  no  man  Innd- 
ed  here  from  far-off  places,  since  ships 
were  built "?  " 

The  voice  came  sadly  down.  "  I 
do  not  know." 

The  voice  went  up.    "  But  think  !  " 

The  voice  came  down.  "  What 
calamity  can  be  new  in  a  world  so 
old  as  this  ?  Everything  we  can  do, 
and  suffer,  others  of  our  race  have 
done,  and  suffered." 

The  voice  went  up.  "  Hush  ! 
there  's  something  moving  on  the 
sand." 


CHAPTER   XXXV. 

Hazel  waited  and  listened.  So 
did  Helen,  and  her  breath  came  fast; 
for  in  the  stilly  night  she  heard  light 
but  mysterious  sounds.  Something 
was  moving  on  the  sand  very  slowly 
and  softly,  but  nearer  and  nearer. 
lliir  heart  began  to  leap.  She  put 
out  her  hand  instinctively  to  clutch 
Mr.  Hazel ;  but  he  was  too  fiir  off". 
She  had  tlie  presence  of  mind  and 
the  self-denial  to  disguise  her  fears; 
for  she  knew  he  would  cqme  headlong 
to  her  assistance. 

She  said  in  a  quivering  whisper, 
"I'm  not  frighteued;  only  v — very 
c — curious." 


FOUL  PLAY. 


135 


And  now  she  became  conscious 
that  not  only  one  but  several  things 
were  creeping  about. 

Presently  the  creeping  ceased,  and 
was  followed  by  a  Unider  and  more 
mysterious  noise.  In  that  silent  night 
it  sounded  like  raking  and  digging. 
Three  or  four  mysterious  visitants 
seemed  to  be  making  graves. 

This  was  too  much ;  especially 
coming  as  it  did  after  talk  about  the 
primeval  dead.  Her  desire  to  scream 
was  so  strong,  and  she  was  so  afraid 
Hazel  would  break  his  neck,  if  she 
relieved  her  mind  in  that  way,  that 
she  artually  took  her  handkerchief 
and  bit  it  hard. 

But  this  siruution  was  cut  short  by 
a  beneficent  luminary.  The  sun  rose 
with  a  magnificent  bound,  —  it  was 
his  way  in  tliat  latitude,  —  and  every- 
thing unpleasant  winced  that  moment; 
the  fog  shivered  in  its  turn,  and  ap- 
peared to  oi)en  in  furrows  as  great 
javelins  of  golden  light  shot  through 
it  from  the  swifcly  rising  orb.  Soon 
those  golden  darts  increased  to  streams 
of  ]iortalile  fire,  that  burst  the  fog  and 
illumined  the  wet  sands  :  and  Helen 
burst  out  laughing  like  chanticleer, 
for  this  first  breik  of  d;iy  revealed  the 
se.xrons  that  had  scared  her,  —  three 
ponderous  turtles,  crawling,  slow  and 
clumsy,  back  to  sea.  Hazel  joined 
her,  and  they  soon  foutul  what  these 
evil  spirits  of  the  island  had  been  at, 
poor  wretches.  They  had  each  bin-ied 
a  dozen  eggs  in  the  sand  :  one  dozen 
of  which  were  very  soon  set  boiling. 
At  first,  indeed,  Helen  objected  that 
they  had  no  sheils,  but  Hazel  told  her 
she  might  as  well  complain  of  a  rose 
without  a  thorn.  He  assured  her 
turtles'  eggs  were  a  known  delicacy, 
and  very  superior  to  birds'  eggs;  and 
so  she  found  them :  they  were  eaten 
with  the  ke.-nest  relish. 

"  And  now,"  said  Helen,  "  for  my 
discoveries.  First,  here  are  my  Eng- 
lisli  leaves,  only  bigger.  I  found  them 
on  a  large  tree." 

"  English  leaves  !  "  cried  Hazel, 
with  rapture.  "  Why,  it  is  the  caout- 
chouc ! " 


"  0  dear,"  said  Helen,  disappoint- 
ed; "I  took  it  for  the  India-rubber 
tree." 

"  It  is  the  India-rubber  tree  ;  and  I 
have  been  hunting  for  it  all  over  the 
island  in  vain,  and  using  wretchedly 
inferior  gums  for  want  of  it." 

"  I  'm  so  glad,"  said  Helen.  "  And 
now  I  have  something  else  to  show 
you  :  something  that  curdled  my 
blood  ;  but  I  dare  say  I  was  very 
foolish."  She  then  took  him  half 
across  the  sand  and  pointed  out  to 
him  a  number  of  stones  dotted  over 
the  sand  in  a  sort  of  oval.  These 
stones,  streaked  with  sea  grass,  and 
incrusted  with  small  shells,  were  not 
at  equal  distances,  but  yet,  allowing 
for  gaps,  they  formed  a  decided  figure. 
Their  outline  resembled  a  great  fish, 
wanting  the  tail. 


"  Can  this  be  chance  1 "  asked 
Helen ;  "  0,  if  it  should  be  what  I 
fear,  and  that  is  —  Savages  !  " 

Hazel  considered  it  attentively  a 
long  time.  "  Too  far  at  sea  for  living 
savages,"  said  he.  "  And  yet  it  can- 
not be  chance.  What  on  earth  is  it? 
It  looks  Druidical.  But  how  can 
that  be?  The  island  was  smaller 
when  these  were  placed  here  than  it 
is  now."  He  went  nearer  and  ex- 
amined one  of  the  stones ;  then  he 
scraped  away  the  sand  from  its  base, 
and  found  it  was  not  shaped  like  a 
stone,  but  more  like  a  whale's  rib. 
He  became  excited ;  went  on  his 
knees,  and  tore  the  sand  up  with  his 
hands.  Then  he  rose  up  agitated,  and 
traced  the  outline  again.  "  Great 
Heaven ! "  said  he,  "  why,  it  is  a 
ship." 

"  A  ship  !  " 

"  Ay,"  said  he,  standing  in  the 
middle  of  it ;  "  here,  beneath  our  feet, 


136 


FOUL   PLAY. 


lies  man ;  with  liis  work,  and  his 
treasures.  This  carcass  has  been 
here  lor  many  a  long  year ;  not  so 
very  lonjj,  neither  ;  she  is  too  hig  for 
the  16tli  century,  and  yet  she  must 
have  been  sunk  when  the  isUmd  was 
smaller.  I  take  it  to  be  if  Spanish  or 
Portuguese  ship :  probably  one  of 
those  treasure-ships  cur  commodores, 
and  chartered  pirates,  and  the  Ameri- 
can buccaneers,  used  to  chase  about 
these  seas.  Here  lie  her  bones,  and 
the  bones  of  her  crew.  Your  ques- 
tion was  soon  answered.  All  that  we 
can  say  has  been  said  ;  can  do  has 
been  done ;  can  suffer  has  been  suf- 
fered " 

They  were  silent,  and  the  sunk 
slii])'s  hones  moved  them  strangely. 
In  their  deep  isolation  from  the  human 
race,  even  the  ])resence  of  the  dead 
brought  humanity  somehow  nearer 
to  them. 

They  walked  tlioughtfull}'  away, 
and  made  across  the  sands  for  Tele- 
gnipli  Point. 

Before  they  got  home,  Helen  sug- 
gested that  perhaps,  if  he  were  to  dig 
in  the  ship,  he  might  find  something 
useful. 

He  shook  his  head.  "  Impossible  ! 
The  iron  has  all  melted  away  like 
sugar  long  before  this.  Nothing  can 
have  survived  but  gold  and  silver, 
and  they  are  not  worth  picking  up, 
much  less  digging  for  ;  my  time  is 
too  precious.  No,  you  have  found 
two  buried  trea-ures  to-day,  — turtles' 
eggs,  and  a  ship,  freighted,  as  I 
think,  with  what  men  call  the  ])re- 
cious  metals.  Well,  the  eggs  are 
gold,  and  the  gold  is  a  drug,  —  there 
it  will  lie  for  me." 

Both  discoveries  bore  fruits.  The 
ship:  Hazel  made  a  vow  that  never 
again  shouUl  any  poor  ship  l.iy  lier 
ribs  on  this  island  for  want  of  warn- 
ing. He  buoyed  the  reefs.  He  ran 
out  to  White  Water  Island,  and 
wrote  an  earnest  warning  on  the 
blark  reef,  and,  this  time,  he  wrote 
with  white  on  black.  He  wrote  a 
similar  warning,  with  black  on  white, 


at  the  western  extremity  of  Godsend 
Island. 

The  eggs  :  Hazel  watched  for  the 
turtles  at  daybreak  ;  turned  one  now 
and  then  ;  and  ied  Helen  on  tlic  meat 
or  its  eggs,  morn,  noon,  and  night. 

For  some  time  she  had  been  advan- 
cing in  health  and  strength.  But, 
when  the  rains  declined  considerably, 
and  she  was  idl  day  in  the  air,  she  got 
the  full  benefit  of  the  wonderful  cli- 
mate, and  her  health,  appetite,  and 
muscular  vigor  became  truly  aston- 
ishing ;  especially  under  what  Hazel 
called  the  turtle  cure ;  though,  indeed, 
she  was  cured  before.  She  ate  three 
good  meals  a  day,  and  needed  them ; 
for  she  was  up  with  tlie  sun,  and  her 
hands  and  feet  never  idle  till  he  set. 

Four  months  on  the  island  had  done 
this.  But  four  months  had  not  shown 
those  straining  eyes  the  white  speck 
on  the  horizon;  the  sail,  so  looked 
and  longed  for. 

Hazel  often  walked  the  island  by 
himself;  not  to  explore,  for  he  knew 
the  place  well  by  this  time,  but  he 
went  his  rounds  to  see  that  all  his 
signals  were  in  working  order. 

He  went  to  Mount  Lookout  one 
day  with  this  view.  It  was  about  an 
hour  before  noon.  Long  before  he 
got  to  the  mountain  he  had  scaimed 
the  horizon  carefully,  as  a  matter  of 
course;  but  not  a  speck.  So,  when 
he  got  there,  he  did  not  look  seaward, 
but  just  saw  that  his  flagstaff  was  all 
right  and  was  about  to  turn  away 
and  go  home,  when  he  happened  to 
glance  at  the  water;  and  there,  under- 
neath him,  he  saw — a  ship;  standing 
towards  the  island. 


CHAPTER  XXXVL 

He  started,  and  rubbed  his  eyes, 
and  looked  again.  It  was  no  delu- 
sion. Things  never  did  come  as  they 
are  expected  to  come.  There  was 
still  no  doubtful  speck  on  the  horizon ; 
but  within  eight  miles  of  the  island. 


FOUL  PLAY. 


137 


—  and  in  this  lovely  air  that  looked 
ncurlv  close,  — was  a  ship,  under  can- 
vas. "  She  bore  S.  E.  I'roin  Mount 
Loolcout,  and  S.  S.  E.  from  the  East 
Blutf  of  the  island,  towards  wliich 
her  course  was  apparently  directed. 
She  had  a  fair  wind,  but  was  not 
going  fast;  being  heavily  laden,  and 
under  no  press  of  sail.  A  ivcen  thrill 
went  througli  him  ;  and  his  mind  was 
a  whirl.  He  ran  home  with  the  great 
news. 

But,  even  as  he  ran,  a  cold  sickly 
feeling  crawled  over  him. 

"  That  ship  parts  her  and  me." 
He  resisted  the  feeling  as  a  thing 
too  monstrous  and  selfish,  and  resist- 
ed it  so  fiercely,  that,  when  he  got  to 
the  slopes  and  saw  Helen  busy  at  her 
work,  he  waved  his  hat  and  hurrahed 
again  and  again,  and  seemed  almost 
mad  with  triumph. 

Helen  stood  transfixed,  she  had 
never  seen  him  in  such  a  state. 

"  Good  news  !  "  he  cried  ;  "  great 
news  1  A  ship  in  sight !  You  are 
rescued  ! " 

Her  heart  leaped  into  her  mouth. 
"  A  ship ! "  she  screamed.  "  Where  ? 
Where  1 " 

He  came  up  to  her,  panting. 
"  Close  under  the  island.  Hid  by 
tlie  bluff;  but  you  will  see  her  in  half 
an  hour.  God  be  praised  !  Get  ev- 
erything ready  to  go.  Hurrah  !  This 
is  our  last  day  on  the  island." 

The  words  were  brave,  and  loud, 
and  boisterous,  but  the  face  was  pale 
and  drawn,  and  Helen  saw  it,  and, 
though  she  bustled  and  got  ready  to 
leave,  the  tears  were  in  her  eyes.  But 
the  event  was  too  great  to  be  resisted. 
A  wild  excitement  grew  on  them  both. 
They  ran  about  like  persons  crazed, 
and  took  things  up,  and  laid  them 
down  again,  scarcely  knowing  what 
tliey  were  doing.  But  presently  tliey 
were  sobered  a  little,  for  the  ship  did 
not  appear.  They  ran  across  the 
sands,  where  they  could  see  the  bluft"; 
she  ought  to  liave  passed  that  half 
an  hour  ago. 

Hazel  thought  she  must  have  an- 
chored. 


Helen  looked  at  him  steadily. 

"  Dear  friend,"  said  she,  "  are  you 
sure  there  is  a  ship  at  all  ?  Are 
you  not  under  a  delusion  1  Tiiis 
island  fills  the  mind  with  fancies. 
One  day  I  thought  I  saw  a  ship  sail- 
ing in  the  sky.  Ah  !  "  She  uttered 
a  faint  scream,  for  while  she  was 
speaking  the  bowsprit  and  jib  of  a  ves- 
sel glided  past  the  blutf  so  closely 
they  seemed  to  scrape  it,  and  a  ship 
emerged  grandly,  and  glided  along 
the  cliff. 

" Are  they  mad,"  cried  Hazel,  "to 
hug  the  shore  like  that  1  Ah  !  they 
have  seen  my  warning." 

And  it  appeared  so,  for  the  ship  just 
then  came  up  in  the  wind  several 
points,  and  left  the  blulT  dead  astern. 

She  sailed  a  little  way  on  that 
course,  and  then  paid  off  again,  and 
seemed  inclined  to  range  along  the 
coast.  But  presently  she  was  up  in 
the  wind  again,  and  made  a  greater 
offing.  She  was  sailed  in  a  strange, 
vacillating  way  ;  but  Hazel  ascribed 
this  to  her  people's  fear  of  the  reefs  he 
had  indicated  to  all  comers.  The 
better  to  watch  her  manoeuvres,  and 
signal  her  if  necessaiy,  they  botlj  went 
up  to  Telegraph  Point.  They  could 
not  go  out  to  her,  being  low  water. 
Seen  from  this  height,  the  working  of 
this  vessel  was  unaccountable.  She 
was  to  and  off  the  wind  as  often  as  if 
she  was  drunk  herself,  or  command- 
ed by  a  drunken  skijiper.  However, 
she  was  kept  well  clear  of  the  home 
reefs,  and  made  a  good  offing,  and 
so  at  last  she  opened  the  bay  head- 
ing N.  W.,  and  distant  four  miles,  or 
thereabouts.  Now  was  the  time  to 
drop  her  anchor.  So  Hazel  worked 
the  telegraph  to  draw  her  attention, 
and  waved  his  hat  and  hand  to  her. 
But  the  ship  sailed  on.  She  yawed 
immensely,  but  she  kept  her  course  ; 
and,  when  she  had  gone  a  mile  or 
two  more,  the  sickening  truth  forced 
itself  at  last  upon  those  ea^er  watch- 
ers. She  had  decided  not  to  touch 
at  the  island.  In  vain  their  jovlul 
signals.  In  vain  the  telegraph.  la 
vaia  that  cry  for  help  upon  the  eastern 


138 


FOUL  PLAY. 


cliff:  it  had  saved  her,  but  not  pleaded 
for  tliem.  The  monsters  saw  them  on 
tlie  lieis^ht,  —  their  hope,  tlieir  joy,  — 
saw  and  alwiuloiied  iliem. 

Thev  looked  at  one  another  with 
dilaiinj:;  eyes,  to  read  in  a  human  face 
wliether  such  a  deed  as  tins  could 
really  be  done  by  man  upon  his  f'el 
low.  Then  they  uttered  wild  cries  to 
the  recedin<j  vessel. 

Vain,  vain,  all  was  in  vain. 
Then  they  sat  down  stupefied,  but 
still  ghiring  at  the  ship,  and  each  at 
tlie  same  moment  held  out  a  hand  to 
the  other,  and  they  sat  hand  in  hand  ; 
all  the  world  to  each  other  just  then, 
for  tliere  was  the  world  in  sight  aban- 
donin<j  them  in  cold  blood. 

"  Be  calm,  dear  friend,"  said 
Helen,  patiently.  "  O  my  poor  fa- 
ther !  "  And  her  other  hand  threw  her 
apron  over  her  head,  and  tlien  came  a 
burst  of  anguish  that  no  words  could 
utter. 

At  this  Hazel  started  to  his  feet  in 
fury. 

'"'  Now  may  the  God  that  made 
sea  and  land  judge  between  those 
miscreants  there  and  you  !  " 

"Be  i)atient,"  said  Helen,  sobbing. 
"  0  l)e  patient." 

"  No !  I  will  not  be  patient," 
roared  Hazel.  "  Judge  thou  her  cause, 
O  God ;  each  of  these  tears  against  a 
reptile's  soul." 

And  so  he  stood  glaring,  and  his 
hair  blowing  wildly  to  tlie  breeze ; 
while  she  sighed  patiently  at  liis  knee. 
Presently  he  began  to  watch  the 
vessel  with  a  grim  and  bitter  eye. 
Anon  he  burst  out  suddenly,  "  Aha  ! 
that  is  right.  Well  steered.  Don't 
cry,  sweet  one ;  our  cause  is  heard. 
Are  they  hlitid  1  Are  they  drunk  '! 
Are  they  sick  'i  I  see  nobody  on 
deck  !  Perha]js  I  have  been  too  — 
God  forgive  me,  the  ship  's  ashore  !  " 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

Helen  looked  up;   and  there  was 
the  ship  fast,  and  on  her  side.     She 


was  on  the  "White  Water  Reef.  Not 
upon  the  black  rocks  themselves,  but 
on  a  part  of  them  that  was  under 
water. 

Hazel  ran  down  to  the  beach ;  and 
there  Helen  found  him  greatly  agi- 
tated. All  his  anger  was  gone ;  he 
had  but  one  thought  now,  —  to  go 
out  to  her  assistance.  But  it  still 
wanted  an  hour  to  high  water,  and  it 
was  blowing  smartly,  and  there  was 
nearly  always  a  surf  ujion  that  reef. 
What  if  the  vessel  should  break  up, 
and  lives  be  lost  ? 

He  paced  the  sands  like  a  wild 
beast  in  its  cage,  in  an  agony  of  pity, 
remorse,  and  burning  impatience. 
His  feelings  became  intolerable;  he 
set  his  back  to  the  boat,  and  with  her- 
culean strength  forced  it  down  a  little 
way  to  meet  the  tide.  He  got  logs 
and  put  them  down  for  rollers.  He 
strove,  he  strained,  he  struggled,  till 
his  fiice  and  hands  were' purple.  And 
at  last  he  met  the  flowing  tide,  and  in 
a  moment  jumped  into  the  boat,  and 
pushed  off.  Helen  begged  with  spar- 
kling eyes  to  be  allowed  to  accom- 
pany him. 

"What,  to  a  ship  smitten  with 
scurvy  or  Heaven  knows  what?  Cer- 
tainly not.  Besides,  you  would  be 
wet  through ;  it  is  blowing  rather 
fresh,  and  I  shall  carry  on.  Pray 
for  the  poor  souls  I  go  to  help ; 
and  for  me,  who  have  sinned  in  my 
anger." 

He  hoisted  his  sail,  and  ran  out. 
Helen  stood  on  the  bank,  and 
watched  him  with  tender  admiration. 
How  good  and  brave  he  was  !  And 
he  could  go  into  a  passion  too,  when 
she  was  wronged,  or  when  he  thought 
she  was.  Well  !  she  admired  him 
none  the  less  for  that.  She  watched 
him  at  first  with  admiration,  but  soon 
with  anxiety  ;  for  he  had  no  sooner 
p;\ssed  North  Gate,  than  the  cutter, 
having  both  sails  set,  though  reefed, 
lay  down  very  much,  and  her  hull 
kept  disajjpearing.  Helen  felt  anx- 
ious, and  would  have  been  downright 
frightened,  but  for  her  coufideuce  ia 
his  prowess. 


FOUL  PLAY. 


139 


By  and  by  only  her  staggering  sails 
were  visible ;  and  the  sun  set  ere  she 
readied  the  creek.  Tlie  wind  declined 
with  the  sun,  and  Helen  made  two 
great  tires,  and  prepared  food  for  the 
sufferers  ;  for  she  made  sure  Hazel 
would  bring  them  off  in  a  few  hours 
more.  She  promised  herself  the  hap- 
piness of  relieving  tlie  distressed. 
But  to  her  infinite  surprise  she  found 
herself  almost  regretting  that  the 
island  was  likely  to  be  peopled  with 
strangers.  No  matter,  she  should  sit 
up  for  them  all  night,  and  be  very 
kind  to  them,  poor  things ;  thougli 
they  had  not  been  very  kind  to  her. 

About  midnight,  the  wind  shifted 
to  the  nortliwest,  and  blew  hard. 

Helen  ran  down  to  the  shore,  and 
looked  seawiird.  This  was  a  fair 
wind  for  Hazel's  return;  and  she 
begun  to  expect  him  every  hour.  But 
no  ;  he  delayed  unaccountably. 

And  the  worst  of  it  was,  it  began  to 
blow  a  gale  ;  and  this  wind  sent  the 
sea  rolling  into  the  bay  in  a  manner 
that  alarmed  her  seriously. 

The  nii^lit  wore  on  ;  no  signs  of 
the  boat ;  and  now  there  was  a  heavy 
gale  outside,  and  a  great  sea  rolling 
in,  brown  and  foaming. 

Day  broke,  and  showed  the  sea  for 
a  mile  or  two  ;  the  rest  was  hidden  by 
driving  rain. 

Helen  kneeled  on  the  shore  and 
prayed  for  him. 

Dire  misgivings  oppressed  her. 
And  soon  these  were  heightened  to 
terror;  for  the  sea  began  to  disgorge 
things  of  a  kind  that  had  never  come 
ashore  before.  A  great  ship's  mast 
came  tossing:-  huge  as  it  was,  the 
waves  handled  it  like  a  toy.  Then 
came  a  barrel ;  then  a  broken  spar. 
These  were  but  the  forerunners  of 
more  fearful  havoc. 

The  sea  became  strewed  and  liter- 
ally blackened  with  fragments;  part 
wreck,  part  cargo,  of  a  broken  vessel. 

But  what  was  all  this  compared 
with  the  horror  that  followed  ? 

A  black  object  caught  her  eye; 
driven  in  upon  the  crest  of  a  wave. 

She  looked,  with  her  hair  flying 


straight  back,  and  her  eyes  almost 
starting  from  her  head. 

It  was  a  boat,  bottom  up ;  driven  on, 
and  tossed  like  a  cork. 

It  came  nearer,  nearer,  nearer. 

She  dashed  into  the  water  with  a 
wild  scream,  but  a  wave  beat  her 
backward  on  the  sand,  and,  as  she 
ro.se,  an  enormous  roller  lifted  the 
boat  upright  into  the  air,  and,  break- 
ing, dashed  it  keel  uppermost  on  the 
beach  at  her  side  —  empty  ! 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

Helen  uttered  a  shriek  of  agony, 
and  her  knees  smote  together,  and  she 
would  have  swooned  on  the  spot  but 
for  the  wind  and  the  spray  that  beat 
against  her. 

To  the  fearful  stun  succeeded  the 
wildest  distress.  She  ran  to  and  fro 
like  some  wild  animal  bereaved ;  she 
kept  wringing  her  hands  and  uttering 
cries  of  pity  and  despair,  and  went 
back  to  the  boat  a  hundrecTtimes  ;  it 
held  her  by  a  spell. 

It  was  long  before  she  could  think 
connectedly,  and,  even  then,  it  was 
not  of  herself,  nor  of  her  lonely  state, 
but  only,  Why  did  not  she  die  with 
him  ■?  Why  did  slie  not  die  instead  of 
him  ? 

He  had  been  all  the  world  to  her; 
and  now  she  knew  it.  0  what  a 
fiicnd,  what  a  champion,  what  a  lover, 
these  cruel  waves  had  destroyed  ! 

The  morning  broke,  and  still  she 
hovered  and  hovered  about  the  fatal 
boat,  with  great  horror-stricken  eyes, 
and  hair  flying  to  the  breeze ;  and 
not  a  tear.  If  she  could  only  have 
smoothed  his  last  moments,  have 
spoken  one  word  into  his  dying  ear  ! 
But  no !  Her  poor  hero  had  died  in 
going  to  save  others;  died  thinking 
her  as  cold  as  the  waters  that  had 
destroyed  him. 

De  id  or  alive  he  was  all  the  world 
to  her  now.  Slie  went,  wailing 
piteously,  and  imploring  the  waves  to 
give  her  at  least  his  dead  body  to 


140 


FOUL  PLAY. 


speak  to,  and  mourn  over.  But  the 
sea  denied  her  even  that  dismal  con- 
solation. 

Tlic  next  tide  brought  in  a  few 
more  fragments  of  the  wreck,  but  no 
corpse  tiouted  asliore. 

Then,  at  last,  as  the  waves  once 
more  retind,  leavin;;,  tiiis  time,  only 
jietty  fragments  of  wreck  on  the 
beatli,  t<lie  lifted  up  her  voice,  and  al- 
most wept  her  heart  out  of  her  body. 

Such  tears  as  these  are  seldom 
witliout  effect  on  tlie  mind  :  and  Helen 
now  began  to  rebel,  though  faintly, 
against  despair.  She  had  been  quite 
crusihed,  at  first,  under  the  material 
evidence,  —  the  boat  driven  empty  by 
the  very  wind  and  waves  that  liad  done 
the  cruel  deed.  But  the  heart  is 
avtrsc  to  believe  calamity  and  especial- 
ly bereavement  ;  and  very  ingenious 
in  arguing  against  that  bitterest  of 
all  woes.  So  she  now  sat  down  and 
brooded,  and  her  mind  fastened  with 
pathetic  ingenuity  on  every  circum- 
stance that  conldbear  a  favorable  con- 
struction^ The  mast  had  not  been 
broken  ;  now,  then,  had  it  been  lost? 
The  body  had  not  come  ashore.  He 
had  had  time  to  get  to  the  wreck  before 
the  gale  from  the  north  came  on  at 
all :  and  why  should  a  fair  wind, 
thougli  powerful,  upset  the  boat  ? 
On  these  slender  things  she  began  to 
build  a  superstructure  of  hope  ;  but 
soon  her  iieart  interrupted  the  reason- 
ing. "  What  would  he  do  in  my 
place  ?  would  he  sit  guessing  Avhiie 
hope  had  a  hair  to  hang  by  ? " 
That  thought  struck  her  like  a  spur: 
and  in  a  moment  she  bounded  into 
action,  erect,  her  lips  fixed,  and  her 
eye  on  fire,  thougli  her  cheek  was 
very  pale.  She  went  swiftly  to  Ha- 
zel's store,  and  searched  it;  there 
she  found  the  jib-sail,  a  boat-hook, 
some  rope,  and  one  little  oar,  that 
Hazel  was  making  for  her,  and  had 
not  quite  completed.  The  sight 
of  this,  his  last  work,  overpowered 
h -r  again ;  and  she  sat  down  and 
took  it  on  her  knees,  and  kissed  it, 
and  cried  over  it.  And  these  tears 
weakened  her  for  a  time.     She  felt 


it,  and  had  the  resolution  to  leave  the 
oar  behind.  A  single  oar  was  of  no 
use  to  row  with.  Slie  rigged  the  hoat- 
hook  as  a  mast ;  and  fastened  tlie  sail 
to  it ;  and,  with  this  poor  equipment, 
she  actually  resolved  to  put  out  to  sea. 

The  wind  still  blew  smartly,  and 
there  was  no  blue  sky  visible. 

And  now  she  remembered  she  had 
eaten  nothing ;  that  would  not  do. 
Her  strength  might  fail  her.  She 
made  ready  a  meal,  and  ate  it  almost 
fiercely,  and  by  a  ])ure  etibrt  of  resolu- 
tion ;  as  she  was  doing  all  the  rest. 

By  this  time,  it  was  nearly  high 
tide.  She  watched  the  water  creeping 
up.  Will  it  tioat  the  boat  ?  It  rises 
over  the  keel ;  two  inches,  three 
inches.  Five  inches  water !  Now 
she  pushes  with  all  her  strength. 
No  ;  the  boat  has  water  in  it  she  iiad 
forgotten  to  bale  out.  She  strained 
every  nerve,  but  could  not  move  it. 
She  stopped  to  take  breath,  and  hus- 
band her  strength.  But,  when  she  re- 
newed her  efforts,  the  five  inches  were 
four,  and  she  had  the  misery  of  seeing 
the  water  crawl  away  by  degrees,  and 
leave  the  boat  liigh  and  dry. 

She  sighed,  heart-broken,  awhile ; 
then  went  home  and  prayed. 

When  she  had  prayed  a  long  time  for 
strength  and  wisdom,  she  lay  down  for 
an  hour,  and  tried  to  sleep,  but  failed. 
Then  she  prepared  for  a  more  serious 
struggle  with  the  many  difliculties  she 
had  to  encounter.  Now  she  thanked 
God  more  than  ever  for  the  health  and 
rare  strength  she  had  accpiired  in  this 
island  :  without  them  she  could  have 
done  nothing  now.  She  got  a  clay 
platter,  and  haled  th»  vessel  nearly 
dry.  She  left  a  little  water  for  ballast. 
She  fortified  herself  with  food,  and 
put  provisions  and  water  on  hoaid  the 
boat.  In  imitation  of  Hazel,  she  went 
and  got  two  roimd  logs,  and,  as  soon 
as  the  tide  crawled  n])  to  four  inches, 
she  lifted  the  bow  a  little,  and  got  a 
roller  under.  Then  she  went  to  the 
boat's  stern,  set  her  teeth,  and  pushed 
with  a  rush  of  excitement  that  gave 
her  almost  a  man's  strength. 
1      The  stubbora  boat  seemed  elastic, 


FOUL  PLAY. 


141 


and  all  but  moved.  Then  instinct 
taught  her  where  her  true  strength 
lav.  She  got  to  the  stern  of  the  boat, 
and,  setting,'  the  small  of  her  back  un- 
der the  projecting  gunwale,  she  gath- 
ered herself  togetiier  and  gave  a  su- 
perb heave,  that  moved  the  boat  a 
foot.  She  followed  it  up,  and  heaved 
again  with  like  etfect.  Then,  with  a 
cry  of  joy,  she  ran  and  put  down  an- 
other roller  forward.  The  boat  was 
now  on  two  rollers :  one  more  mag- 
niticent  heave  with  all  her  zeal,  and 
strength,  and  youth,  and  the  boat 
glided  forward!  She  turned  and 
rushed  at  it  as  it  went,  and  the  water 
deepening,  and  a  gust  catciiing  the 
s;iil,  it  went  out  to  sea,  and  she  had 
only  just  time  to  throw  herself  across 
the  gunwale,  panting.  She  was 
afloat.  The  wind  was  S.  W.,  and, 
before  she  knew  where  slie  was, 
tlie  boat  headed  towards  the  home 
reefs,  and  slipped  through  the  water 
pretty  fast  considering  how  small  a 
sail  "she  carried.  She  ran  to  the 
helm.  Alas  !  the  rudder  was  broken 
oft"  a'jove  the  water  line.  The  helm 
was  a  mockery,  and  the  boat  running 
for  the  reeis.  She  slacked  the  sheet, 
and  the  boat  lost  her  way,  and  began 
to  drift  with  the  tide,  which  luckily 
had  not  yet  turned.  It  carried  her  in 
shore. 

Helen  cast  her  eyes  around  her  for 
an  ex|)edient,  and  site  unshipped  one 
of  the  transoms,  and  by  trailing  over 
the  siiie,  and  alternately  slacking  and 
hauling  the  sheet,  she  contrived  to 
make  the  boat  crawl  like  a  winged 
bird  through  the  western  passage. 
Afier  that  it  soon  got  becalmed  un- 
der the  did",  and  drifted  into  two  feet 
water. 

Instantly  she  tied  a  rope  to  the 
mast,  got  out  into  the  water,  and 
took  the  rope  ashore.  She  tied  it 
round  a  heavy  barrel  she  found  there, 
and  set  the  barrel  up,  and  heaped 
stones  round  it  and  on  it,  whi<  h,  un- 
fortunately, was  a  long  job,  though 
she  worked  with  feverish  haste  ;  then 
she  went  round  the  point,  sometimes 
wet  and  sometimes  dry,  for  the  little 


oar  she  had  left  behind  because  it 
broke  her  heart  to  look  at.  Away 
with  such  weakness  now !  With 
that  oar,  his  last  work,  t>he  might 
steer  if  she  could  not  row.  She  got 
it.  She  came  l)ack  to  the  boat  to  re- 
comn^nce  her  voyage. 

She  found  the  boat  all  safe,  but  in 
six  inches  of  water,  and  the  tide  going 
out.  So  ended  her  voyage ;  four 
hundred  yards  at  most,  and  then  to 
wait  another  twelve  hours  for  the 
tide. 

It  was  too  cruel :  and  every  hour 
so  precious  :  for,  even  if  Hazel  was 
alive,  he  would  die  of  cold  and  hun- 
ger ere  she  could  get  to  him.  She 
cried  like  any  woman. 

She  persisted  like  a  man. 

She  made  several  trips,  and  put 
away  things  in  the  boat  that  could 
possibly  be  of  use,  —  abundant  pro- 
vision, and  a  keg  of  water;  Hazel's 
wooden  spade  to  puddle  or  steer  with ; 
his  basket  of  tools,  &c.  Then  she 
snatched  some  sleep  ;  but  it  was  bro- 
ken by  sad  and  terrible  dreams  :  then 
she  waited  in  an  agony  of  impatience 
for  high  water. 

We  are  not  always  the  best  judges 
of  what  is  good  for  us.  Probably 
these  delays  saved  her  own  life.  She 
went  out  at  last  under  far  more  fa- 
vorable circumstances, — a  light  west- 
erly breeze,  and  no  reefs  to  pass 
through.  She  was,  jiowever,  severely 
incommoded  with  a  iiround-swell. 

At  first  she  steered  with  the  spade 
as  well  as  she  could  ;  but  she  found 
this  was  not  sufficient.  The  current 
ran  westerly,  and  she  was  drifting  out 
of  her  course.  Then  she  rememtx-red 
Hazel's  lesij^  and  made  shift  to 
fasten  the  sps^re  to  the  helm,  and  then 
lashed  the  helm.  Even  this  did  not 
quite  do;  so  she  took  her  little  oar, 
kissed  it,  cried  over  it  a  little,  and 
then  pulled  manfully  with  it  so  as 
to  keep  the  true  course.  It  was  a 
muggy  day,  neither  wet  nor  dry. 
White  Water  Island  w^as  not  in  sight 
from  Godsend  Island  ;  but,  as  soon  as 
she  lost  the  latter,  the  former  becaine 
visible,  —  an  ugly  grinning  reef,  with 


142 


FOUL  PLAY. 


an  eternal   surf  on   the    south    and 
western  sides. 

Often  slie  left  off  rowing,  and  turned 
to  look  at  it.  It  was  all  black  and 
blank,  except  the  white  and  fatal 
surf. 

When  she  was  about  four« miles 
from  the  nearest  part  of  the  reef, 
there  was  a  rush  and  bubble  in  the 
water,  and  a  ^reat  shark  came  after 
the  boat.  Helen  screamed,  and  turned 
very  cold,  bhe  dreaded  the  monster, 
not  for  what  he  could  do  now,  but  for 
what  he  mi.uht  have  done,  lie  seemed 
to  know  the  boat,  he  swam  so  vigi- 
kntly  behind  it.  Was  he  there  when 
the  boat  upset  with  Hazel  in  it  ?  Was 
it  in  his  greedy  maw  the  remains  of 
her  best  friend  must  be  sought?  Her 
lips  opened,  but  no  sound.  She 
shuddered  and  hid  her  face  at  this  aw- 
ful thought. 

The  shark  followed  steadily. 

She  got  to  the  reef,  but  did  not  hit 
it  olFas  she  intended.  She  ran  under 
its  lee,  lowered  the  little  sail,  and 
steered  the  bo;it  into  a  nick  where  the 
shark  could  iiardly  follow  her. 

But  he  moved  to  niul  fro  like  a  sen- 
tinel, while  she  landed  in  trepidation 
and  secured  the  boat  to  the  branches 
of  a  white  coral  rock. 

She  found  the  place  much  larger 
than  it  looked  from  Telegrajjh  Point. 
It  was  an  archijwlago  of  coral  reef  in- 
crusted  here  and  there  with  shells. 
She  could  not  see  all  over  it,  where 
slie  was,  so  she  made  for  what  seemed 
the  highest  part,  a  bleak,  sea-weedy 
mound,  with  some  sandy  hillocks 
about  it.  She  went  up  to  this,  and 
looked  eagerly  all  round. 

Not  a  soul.  ^ 

She  called  as  loud  m  her  sinking 
heart  would  let  her. 

Not  a  sound. 

Slie  felt  very  sick,  and  sat  down 
upon  the  mound. 

When  she  had  yielded  awhile  to 
the  weakness  of  her  sex,  she  got  up, 
and  was  her  father's  daugliter  again. 
Siie  set  to  work  to  examine  every  foot 
of  the  reef. 

It  was  no  easy  task.     The  rocks 


were  rugged  and  sharp  in  places,  slip- 
pery ill  others  ;  ofien  she  had  to  go 
about,  and  once  she  fell  and  hurt  her 
pretty  hands  and  made  them  bleed; 
she  never  looked  at  them,  nor  heeded, 
but  got  up  and  sighed  at  the  interrup- 
tion :  then  patiently  persisted.  It 
took  iier  two  hours  to  examine  thus, 
in  detail,  one  half  the  island  :  but  at 
last  she  discovered  something.  She 
saw  at  the  eastern  side  of  the  reef  a 
wooden  figure  of  a  woman,  and,  mak- 
ing her  way  to  it,  found  the  figure- 
head and  a  )iiece  of  the  bow  of  the 
ship,  with  a  sail  on  it,  and  a  yard  on 
that.  This  fragment  was  wedged  into 
an  angle  of  the  reef,  and  the  seaward 
edge  of  it  shattered  in  a  way  that 
struck  terror  to  Helen,  for  it  showed 
her  how  omnipotent  tlie  sea  had  been. 
On  the  reef  itself  she  found  a  cask 
with  its  head  stove  in,  also  a  little  keg 
and  two  wooden  chests  or  cases.  But 
what  was  all  this  to  her  f 

She  sat  down  again,  for  her  knees 
fiiilcd  her.  Prcsenily  there  was  a  sort 
of  moan  near  her,  and  a  seal  splashed 
into  the  water  and  dived  out  of  her 
sight.  She  put  her  hands  on  her 
heart,  and  bowed  her  head  down,  ut- 
terly desolate.  She  sat  thus  for  a  long 
time  indeed,  until  she  was  interrupted 
by  a  most  unexpected  visitor. 

Something  came  sniffing  up  to  her 
and  put  a  cold  nose  to  her  hand. 
She  started  violently,  and  both  her 
hands  were  in  the  air  in  a  moment. 

It  was  a  dog,  a  pointer.  He  whim- 
pered and  tried  to  gambol,  but  could 
iu)t  manage  it ;  he  was  too  weak. 
However,  he  contrived  to  let  her  see, 
with  the  wagging  of  his  tail  and  a 
certain  contemporaneous  twist  of  his 
emaciated  body,  that  she  was  wel- 
come. But,  having  performed  this 
ceremony,  he  trotted  feebly  away, 
leaving  her  very  much  startled,  and 
not  knowing  what  to  think  ;  indeed, 
this  incident  set  her  trembling  all 
over. 

A  dog  saved  from  the  wreck  I  Then 
why  not  a  man  ?  And  why  not  that 
life  1     O,   thought  she,   would   God 


FOUL  PLAY. 


143 


save  that  creature,  and  not  pity  my 
poor  angel  and  me  ? 

She  pot  up  animated  with  hope, 
and  recommenced  her  researches.  She 
now  kept  at  the  outward  edge  of  the 
ishmd,  and  so  went  all  round  till  she 
reached  her  boat  again.  The  shark 
was  swimming  to  and  fro,  waiting  for 
her  with  horrible  pertinacity.  She 
tried  to  eat  a  mouthful,  but,  though 
she  was  faint,  she  could  not  eat.  She 
drank  a  mouthful  of  water,  and  then 
went  to  search  the  very  small  portion 
that  remained  of  tiie  reef,  and  to  take 
the  poor  dog  home  with  her,  because 
he  she  had  lost  was  so  good  to  ani- 
mals. Only  his  exumple  is  left  me, 
she  said  ;  and  with  tiiat  came  another 
burst  of  sorrow.  But  she  got  up  and 
did  the  rest  of  her  work,  crying  as  she 
went.  After  some  severe  travelling 
she  got  near  the  northeast  limit,  and 
in  a  sort  of  gully  she  saw  the  dog, 
quietly  seated  high  on  his  tail.  She 
called  him  ;  but  he  never  moved.  So 
then  she  went  to  iiim,  and,  when  she 
got  near  him,  she  saw  why  he  would 
not  come.  He  was  watching.  Close 
by  him  lay  the  form  of  a  man  nearly 
covered  with  sea-weed.  The  feet  were 
visible,  and  so  was  the  face,  the  latter 
deadly  pale.  It  was  he.  In  a  mo- 
ment she  was  by  him,  and  leaning 
over  him  with  both  hands  quivering. 
Was  he  dead  1  No ;  his  eyes  were 
closed ;  he  was  fast  asleep. 

Her  hands  flew  to  his  face  to  feel 
him  alive,  and  then  grasped  both  his 
hands  and  drew  them  up  towards  her 
panting  bosom  :  and  the  tears  of  joy 
streamed  from  her  eyes,  as  she  sobbed 
and  murmured  over  him,  she  knew 
not  what.  At  that  he  a\Yoke  and 
stared  at  her.  He  uttered  a  loud 
ejaculation  of  joy  and  wonder,  then, 
taking  it  all  in,  burst  into  tears  him- 
self and  fell  to  kissing  her  hands  and 
blessing  Iter.  The  poor  soul  had  al- 
most given  himself  up  for  lost.  And 
to  be  saved,  all  in  a  moment,  and  by 
her ! 

They  could  neither  of  them  speak, 
but  only  mingled  tears  of  joy  and 
gratitude. 


Hazel  recovered  himself  first ;  and, 
rising  somewiuit  stiffly,  lent  lier  his 
arm.  Her  father's  spirit  went  out  of 
her  in  the  moment  of  victory,  and  she 
was  all  w'oman,  —  sweet,  loving,  cling- 
ing woman.  She  got  hold  of  his  hand 
as  well  as  his  arm,  and  clutched  it  so 
tight,  her  little  grasp  seemed  velvet 
and  steel. 

"  Let  me  feel  you,"  said  she  :  "  but 
no  words  !  no  words  !  " 

He  supported  his  preserver  ten- 
derly to  the  boat,  then,  hoisting  the 
sail,  he  fetched  the  east  side  in  two 
tacks,  shipped  the  sail  and  yard,  and 
also  the  cask,  keg,  and  boxes.  He 
then  put  a  great  quantity  of  loose  oys- 
ters on  board,  each  as  large  as  a  plate. 
She  looked  at  him  with  amazement. 

"  What,"  said  she,  when  he  had 
quite  loaded  the  boat,  "only  just  out 
of  the  jaws  of  death,  and  yet  you  can 
trouble  your  head  about  oysters  and 
things." 

"  Wait  till  you  see  what  I  shall  do 
with  them,"  said  he.  "  These  are 
pearl  oysters.  I  gathered  them  for 
you,  when  I  had  little  hope  I  should 
ever  see  you  again  to  give  them  you." 

This  was  an  unlucky  speech.  The 
act,  that  seemed  so  small  and  natural 
a  thing  to  him,  the  woman's  heart 
measured  more  correctly.  Something 
rose  in  her  throat ;  she  tried  to  laugh 
instead  of  crying,  and  so  she  did  both, 
and  went  into  a  violent  fit  of  hysterics 
that  showed  how  thoroughly  her  na- 
ture had  been  stirred  to  its  depths. 
She  quite  frightened  Hazel  ^  and,  in- 
deed, the  strength  of  an  excited  wo- 
man's weakness  is  sometimes  alarm- 
ing to  manly  natures. 

He  did  all  he  could  to  soothe  her; 
without  much  success.  As  soon  as 
she  was  better  he  set  sail,  thinking 
home  was  the  best  place  for  her.  She 
leant  back  exhausted,  and,  after  a 
while,  seemed  to  be  asleep.  We  don't 
believe  she  was,  but  Hazel  did  ;  and 
sat,  cold  and  aching  in  body,  but 
warm  at  heart,  worshipping  her  with 
all  his  eyes. 

At  last  they  got  ashore  ;  and  he  sat 
by  her  fire  and  told  her  all,  while  she 


144 


FOUL   PLAY. 


cooked  his  supper  and  warmed  clothes 
at  tlic  fire  for  him. 

"  The  sliip,"  said  he,  "  was  aDiitch 
vessel,  hound  from  Batavia  to  Callao, 
that  had  ]nohal)ly  ^^one  on  her  heam 
ends,  for  she  was  full  of  water.  Her 
crew  had  abandoned  her ;  I  think 
tiiey  unck'rrated  the  buoyancy  of  the 
ship  and  carj^o.  They  left  tliC  poor 
doy:  on  board.  Her  helm  was  lashed 
a-weather  a  couple  of  turns,  but  why 
that  was  done  I  cannot  tell  for  the 
life  of  me.  I  boarded  her  ;  unshipped 
my  mast,  and  moored  tlie  boat  to  the 
ship ;  fed  the  ])oor  dog ;  rummaged 
in  the  hold,  and  contrived  to  hoist  up 
a  small  cask  of  salted  beef,  and  a  keg- 
of  rum,  and  some  cases  of  grain  and 
seeds.  I  managed  to  slide  these  on 
to  the  reef  by  means  of  the  mast  and 
oar  lashed  together.  But  a  roller 
ground  the  wreck  farther  on  to  the 
reef,  and  the  sudden  snap  broke  the 
rope,  as  I  sujipose,  and  the  boat  went 
to  sea.  I  never  knew  the  misfortune 
till  I  saw  her  adrift.  I  could  have 
got  over  that  by  making  a  raft ;  but 
the  gale  from  the  north  hrou<ilit  such 
a  sea  on  us.  I  saw  she  must  break 
up,  so  I  got  ashore  how  I  could.  Ah, 
I  little  thought  to  see  your  face  again, 
still  less  that  I  should  owe  my  life  to 
you." 

"  Spare  me,"  said  Helen,  faintly. 

"  What,  must  not  I  thank  you  even 
for  my  life  ?  " 

"  No.  Tlie  account  is  far  from  even 
yet." 

"  You  *re  no  arithmetician  to  say 
so.  What  astonishes  me  most  is,  that 
you  have  never  once  scolded  me  for 
all  the  trouble  and  anxiety  —  " 

"  I  am  too  happy  to  see  you  sitting 
there,  to  scold  you.  But  still  I  <lo 
ask  you  to  leave  the  sea  alone  after 
this.  The  treacherous  monster  !  O, 
think  what  you  and  I  have  suffered 
on  it." 

She  seemed  quite  worn  out.  He 
saw  that,  and  retired  for  the  night, 
casting  one  more  wistful  glance  on 
her.  But  at  that  moment  she  was 
afraid  to  look  at  him.  Her  heart 
was  welling  over  with  tenderness  for 


the  dear  friend  whose   life   she   had 
saved. 

Next  morning  Hazel  rose  at  day- 
break as  usual,  but  found  himself  stiff 
in  the  joints,  and  with  a  jiain  in  his 
back.  The  mat  that  hung  at  the  open- 
ing of  Helen's  cave  was  not  removed 
as  usual.  She  was  on  her  bed  with 
a  violent  headache. 

Hazel  fed  Ponto,  and  corrected 
him.  He  was  at  present  a  civilized 
dog ;  so  he  made  a  weak  rush  at  the 
boobies  and  noddies  directly. 

He  also  smelt  Tommy  in(juisitively, 
to  learn  was  he  an  eatable.  Tommy 
somehow  divined  the  end  of  this  sin- 
ister curiosit}-,  and  showed  his  teeth. 

Then  Hazel  got  a  rope,  and  tied 
one  end  round  his  own  waist,  and  one 
round  Ponto's  neck,  and,  at  every  out- 
break of  civilization,  jerked  him  sharp- 
ly on  to  his  back.  The  effect  of  this 
discipline  was  rapid  ;  Ponto  soon 
found  that  he  must  not  make  war  on 
the  inhabitants  of  the  island.  He  was 
a  docile  animal,  and  in  a  very  short 
time  consented  to  make  one  of  "the 
happy  family,"  as  Hazel  called  the 
miscellaneous  crew  that  beset  him. 

Helen  and  Hazel  did  not  meet  till 
past  noon  ;  and  when  ihey  did  meet 
it  was  jilain  she  had  been  thinking 
a  great  deal,  for  her  greeting  was  so 
shy  and  restrained  as  to  appear  cold 
and  distant  to  Hazel.  He  thought  to 
himself,  I  was  too  happy  yesterday, 
and  she  too  kind.  Of  course  it  could 
not  last. 

This  change  in  her  seemed  to  grow, 
rather  than  diminish.  She  carried  it 
so  far  as  to  go  and  almost  hide  during 
the  working  hours.  She  made  off  to 
the  jungle,  and  spent  an  unreasonable 
time  there.  She  jirolessed  to  be  col- 
lecting cotton,  and  it  must  be  admit- 
ted she  brought  a  good  deal  hom6 
with  her.  But  Hazel  could  not  ac- 
cept cotton  as  the  only  motive  for  this 
sudden  separation. 

He  lost  the  light  of  her  face  till  the 
evening.  Then  matters  took  another 
turn  :  she  was  too  polite.  Ceremony 
and  courtesy  appeared  to  be  gradually 


FOUL  PLAY. 


145 


encroaching  upon  tender  friendship 
and  familiarity  :  yet,  now  and  then, 
her  soft  hazel  eyes  seemed  to  turn  on 
him  in  silence,  and  say,  forgive  mo  all 
tills.  Tiien,  at  those  sweet  looks,  love 
and  forgiveness  poured  out  of  his  eyes. 
And  then  hers  sought  the  ground. 
And  this  was  generally  followed  hy  a 
certain  mixture  of  stiflnes^,  timidity, 
and  formality,  too  subtle  to  describe. 

The  much-enduring  man  began  to 
lose  patience. 

"  This  is  caprice,"  said  he.  "  Cruel 
caprice." 

Our  female  readers  will  probably 
take  a  deeper  view  of  it  than  that. 
Whatever  it  was,  another  change  was 
at  hand.  Since  he  was  so  exposed  to 
the  weather  on  the  reef,  Hazel  had 
never  been  free  from  pain  ;  but  he  had 
done  his  best  to  work  it  off.  He  had 
collected  all  the  valuables  from  the 
wreck,  made  a  new  mast,  set  up  a 
rude  capstan  to  draw  the  boat  ashore, 
and  cut  a  little  dock  for  her  at  low 
water,  and  clayed  it  in  the  full  heat  of 
the  sun  ;  and,  having  accomplished 
this  drudgery,  he  got  at  last  to  his 
labor  of  love;  he  opened  a  quantity 
of  pearl  oysters,  fed  Tommy  and  the 
durk  with  tiiem,  and  began  the  great 
work  of  lining  the  cavern  with  them. 
The  said  cavern  was  somewhat  shell- 
shaped,  and  his  idea  was  to  make  it 
out  of  a  gloomy  cavern  into  a  vast 
shell,  lined  entirely,  roof  and  sides, 
wiih  glorious,  sweet,  prismatic  moth- 
er-of-pearl, fresh  from  ocean.  Well, 
one  morning  while  Helen  was  in  the 
jungle,  he  made  a  cement  of  guano, 
sand,  clay,  and  water,  nipped  some 
shells  to  a  shape  with  the  pincers,  and 
cemented  them  neatly,  like  mosaic 
almost ;  but  in  the  middle  of  bis  work 
he  was  cut  down  by  the  disorder  he 
had  combated  so  stoutly.  He  fairly 
gave  in,  and  sat  down  groaning  with 
pain.  And  in  this  state  Helen  found 
him. 

"  0  what  is  the  matter  ?  "  said 
she. 

He  told  her  the  truth,  and  said  he 
had  violent  pains  in  the  back  and 
head.  She  did  not  say  much,  but  she 
10 


tiu-ned  pale.  She  bustled  and  lighted 
a  great  fire,  and  made  him  lie  down 
by  it.  She  propped  his  head  up ;  she 
set  water  on  to  boil  for  him,  and  would 
not  let  him  move  for  anytiiing ;  and 
all  the  time  her  features  were  brimful 
of  the  loveliest  concern.  He  could 
not  help  thinking  how  much  better  it 
was  to  be  ill  and  in  pain,  and  have  her 
so  kind,  than  to  be  well,  and  see  her 
cold  and  distant.  Towards  evening 
he  got  better,  or  rather  he  mistook  an 
intermission  for  cure,  and  retired  to 
his  boat ;  but  she  made  him  take  her 
rug  with  him  ;  and,  when  he  was 
gone,  she  could  not  sleep  for  anxiety ; 
and  it  cut  her  to  tlie  lieart  to  think 
how  poorly  he  was  lodged  compared 
with  her. 

Of  all  the  changes  fate  could  bring, 
this  she  had  never  dreamed  of,  that 
she  should  be  so  roi)ust,  and  he  should 
be  sick  and  in  pain. 

She  passed  an  uneasy,  restless 
night,  and  long  before  morning  she 
awoke  for  the  sixth  or  seventh  time, 
and  she  awoke  with  a  misgiving  in 
her  mind,  and  some  sound  ringing  in 
her  ears.  She  listened  and  heard 
nothing ;  but  in  a  few  moments  it 
began  again. 

It  was  Hazel  talking,  —  talking  in 
a  manner  so  fist,  so  strange,  so  loud, 
that  it  made  her  blood  run  cold.  It  was 
the  voice  of  Hazel,  but  not  his  mind. 

She  drew  near,  and,  to  her  dismay, 
found  him  fever-stricken,  and  pouring 
out  words  with  little  sequence.  She 
came  close  to  him  and  tried  to  soothe 
him,  but  he  answered  her  quite  at 
random,  and  went  on  flinging  out  the 
strangest  things  in  stranger  order. 
She  trembled  and  waited  for  a  lull, 
hoping  then  to  soothe  him  with  soft 
words  and  tones  of  tender  pity. 

"  Dens  and  caves  !  "  he  roared, 
answering  an  imaginary  detractor. 
"  Well,  never  mind,  love  shall  make 
that  hole  in  the  rock  a  palace  for  a 
queen  ;  for  a  queen  ?  For  the  queen. 
Here  he  suddenly  changed  characters 
and  fancied  be  was  interpreting  the 
discourse  of  another.  "  He  means  the 
Queen  of  the  Fairies,"  said  he,  patron- 


146 


FOUL  PLAY. 


izinf^ly  :  then,  resumuif^  his  own  char- 
acter with  loud  detiaiice,  "  I  say  her 
chamber  shall  outshine  the  glories 
of  the  Alhauibra,  as  far  as  the  lilies 
outshone  the  artificial  jrlories  of  King 
Solomon.  O  mighty  Nature,  let  oth- 
ers rely  on  the  painter,  the  gold-beater, 
the  carver  of  marble,  come  you  and 
help  me  adorn  the  temple  of  my  be- 
loved.    Amen." 

(The  poor  soul  thought,  by  the 
sound  of  his  own  words,  it  must  be  a 
prayer  he  uttered.) 

And  now  Helen,  with  streaming 
eyes,  tried  to  put  in  a  word,  but  he 
stopped  her  with  a  wild  hush  !  and 
went  off  into  a  series  of  mysterious 
whisperings.  "  Make  no  noise,  please, 
or  we  shall  frighten  her.  There  — 
that  is  her  window  —  no  noise,  please  ! 
I've  watched  and  waited  four  hours, 
just  to  see  her  sweet,  darling  shadow 
on  the  blinds,  and  shall  I  lose  it  for 
your  small  talk  ^  all  paradoxes  and 
platitudes  !  excuse  my  plain  speaking 

—  hush  !  here  it  comes,  —  her  shadow 

—  hush!  —  how  my  heart  beats.  It 
is  gone.  So  now"  (speaking  out), 
"good  night,  base  world!  Do  you 
hear  ?  you  company  of  liars,  thieves, 
and  traitors,  called  the  world,  go  and 
sleep  if  you  can.  I  shall  sleep :  be- 
cause my  conscience  is  clear.  False 
accusations  '.  Who  can  help  them  1 
They  are  the  act  of  otiicrs.  Read  of 
Job,  and  Paul,  and  Joan  of  Arc.  No, 
uo,  no,  no;  I  did  n't  say  read  'em  out 
with  those  stentorian  lungs.  I  must 
be  allowed  a  little  sleep,  a  man  that 
wastes  the  midnight  oil,  yet  brushes 
the  early  dew.     Good  niglit." 

He  turned  round  and  slept  for 
several  hours  as  he  supposed ;  but 
in  reality  he  was  silent  for  just  three 
seconds.  "  Well,"  said  he, "  and  is  a 
gardener  a  man  to  be  looked  down 
iipon  by  ui)Starls  ?  When  Adam 
delved  and  Eve  span,  where  was  then 
the  gentleman  1  Why,  where  the 
spade  was.  Yet  I  went  through  tiie 
Herald's  College,  and  not  one  of  our 
mushroom  aristocracy  ('bloated'  1 
object  to ;  they  don't  cat  half  as 
much  as  their  footmen)  had  a  spade 


for  a  crest.  There  's  nothing  ancient 
west  of  the  Caspian.  Well,  all  the 
better.  For  there  's  no  fool  like  an 
old  fool.  A  spade  's  a  spade  for  a 
that,  an  a  that,  an  a  that,  an  a  that, 
—  an  a  that,  —  an  a  that.  Hallo ! 
Stop  that  man  ;  he  's  gone  off  on  his 
cork  leg,  of  a  that,  on  a  that,  —  and 
it  is  my  wish  to  be  quiet.  Allow  me 
respectfully  to  observe,"  said  he, 
striking  off  suddenly  into  an  air  of 
vast  politeness,  "  that  man  requires 
change.  I  've  done  a  jolly  good  day's 
work  with  the  spade  for  this  old 
Buffer,  and  now  the  intellect  claims 
its  turn.  The  mind  retires  above  the 
noisy  world  to  its  Acropolis,  and 
there  discusses  the  great  problem  of 
the  day;  the  Insular  Enigma.  To 
be  or  not  to  be,  that  is  the  question,  I 
believe.  No  it  is  not.  That  is  fully 
discussed  elsewhere.  Hum !  To  dif- 
fuse —  intelligence  —  from  a  fixed 
island  —  over  one  hundred  leagues  of 
water. 

"  It 's  a  stinger.  But  I  can't  com- 
plain. I  had  read  Lempriere,  and 
Smith  and  Bryant,  and  mythology  in 
general  :  yet  I  must  go  and  fall  in 
love  with  the  Sphinx.  Men  are  so 
vain.  Vanity  whispered  she  will  set 
you  a  light  one ;  why  is  a  cobbler 
like  a  king,  for  instance?  She  is  in 
love  with  you,  ye  fool,  if  you  are  with 
her.  The  harder  the  riddle  the  higher  j 
the  compliment  the  Sifhinx  pays  you. 
That  is  the  way  all  sensible  men  look 
at  it.  She  is  not  the  Sphinx  :  she  is 
an  angel,  and  I  call  her  ifty  Lady 
Caprice.  Hate  her  for  beinq  Caprice  ! 
You  incorrigible  muddle  head.  Why, 
I  love  Caprice  for  being  her  shadow. 
Poor,  impotent  love  that  can't  solve  a 
problem.  The  only  one  she  ever  set 
me.  I  'vc  gone  about  it  like  a  fool. 
What  is  the  use  putting  up  little  bits 
of  telegraphs  on  tlie  island  f  1  '11  make 
a  kite  a  hundred  feet  high,  get  five 
miles  of  rope  ready  against  the  next 
hurricane  ;  and  then  I  '11  rub  it  with 
])hospliorus  and  Hy  it.  But  what  can 
I  fasten  it  to  ?  No  tree  would  hold  it. 
Dunce  !  To  the  island  itself,  of  course. 
And  now  go  to  Stantlc,  Magg,  Mel- 


FOUL  PLAY, 


147 


ton,  and  Copestake  for  one  thousand 
yards  of  silk,  —  Monei/  !  Monet/ 1 
Monei/  !  Well,  <;ivc  them  a  morty;ai;e 
on  the  island,  and  a  draft  on  the  gal- 
leon. Now  stop  the  pitch-fountain, 
and  hore  a  hole  near  it ;  till  filty  bal- 
loons with  gas,  inscribe  tlieni  with  tlie 
latitude  and  longitude,  fly  them,  and 
bring  all  the  world  about  our  ears. 
The  problem  is  solved.  It  is  solved, 
and  1  am  destroyed.  She  leaves  me  ; 
she  thinks  no  more  of  me.  Her  heart 
is  in  England." 

Then  he  muttered  for  a  long  time 
unintelligibly ;  and  Helen  ventured 
near,  and  actually  laid  her  hand  on 
his  brow  to  sootlie  him.  But  sud- 
denly his  muttering  ceased,  and  he 
seemed  to  be  puzzling  hard  over  some- 
thing. 

The  result  came  out  in  a  clear  artic- 
ulate sentence,  that  made  Helen  re- 
coil, and,  holding  by  the  mast,  cast  an 
indescribable  look  of  wonder  and  dis- 
may on  the  speaker. 

The  words  that  so  staggered  her 
were  these  to  the  letter. 

"  She  says  she  hates  i-eptiles.  Yet 
she  marries  Arthur  Wardlaw." 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

The  very  name  of  Arthur  "Ward- 
law  startled  Helen,  and  made  her 
realize  how  completely  her  thoughts 
had  lieen  occupied  with  another. 

But  add  to  that  the  strange  and 
bitter  epigram !  Or  was  it  a  mere 
fortuitous  concourse  of  words  "? 

She  was  startled,  amazed,  con- 
founded, puzzled.  And,  ere  she  could 
recover  her  composure.  Hazel  was 
back  to  his  problem  again  :  but  no 
longer  with  the  same  energy. 

He  said  in  a  faint  and  sleepy  voice  : 
" '  He  maketh  the  winds  His  mes- 
sengers, and  flames  of  fire  His  min- 
isters.' Ah !  if  I  could  do  that ! 
Well,  why  not?  I  can  do  anything 
she  bids  me,  — 

Grsculua  eauriens  coelum  jusseris  ibit." 


And  soon  after  this  doughty  declara- 
tion he  dozed  off,  and  forgot  all  his 
trouble  ibr  a  while. 

The  sun  rose,  and  still  he  slept, 
and  Helen  watched  him  with  undis- 
guised tenderness  in  her  face;  undis- 
guised now  that  he  could  not  see  it. 

Erelong  she  had  companions  in  her 
care.  Ponto  came  out  of  his  den, 
and  sniffed  about  the  l;oat;  and  then 
began  to  scratch  it,  and  whimper  for 
his  friend.  Tommy  swam  out  of  the 
sea,  came  to  the  boat,  discovered, 
Heaven  knows  how,  tiiat  his  friend 
was  there,  and,  in  the  way  of  noises, 
did  everything  but  speak.  The  sea- 
birds  followed  and  fluttered  here  and 
there  in  an  erratic  way,  with  now 
and  then  a  peck  at  each  other.  All 
animated  nature  seemed  to  be  uneasy 
at  this  eclipse  of  their  Hazel. 

At  last  Tommy  raised  himself  quite 
perpendicular,  in  a  vain  endeavor  to 
look  into  tlie  boat,  and  invented  a 
whine  in  tiie  minor  key,  which  tells 
on  dogs  :  it  set  Ponto  off  in  a  mo- 
ment; he  sat  upon  his  tail,  and  de- 
livered a  long  and  most  deplorable 
howl. 

"  Everything  loves  him,"  thought 
Helen. 

With  Ponto's  music  Hazel  awoke, 
and  found  her  watching  him,  with 
tears  in  her  eyes ;  he  said  softly : 
"  Miss  Rolleston  !  There  is  nothing 
the  matter,  I  hope.  Why  am  I  not 
up  getting  things  for  your  break- 
fast ?  " 

"  Dear  friend,"  said  she,  "  why  you 
are  not  doing  things  for  me  and  for- 
getting yourself  is  because  you  have 
been  very  ill.  And  I  am  your  nurse. 
Now  tell  me  what  I  shall  get  you. 
Is  there  nothing  you  could  fancy  ?  " 

No ;  he  had  no  appetite ;  she  was 
not  to  trouble  al)out  him.  And  then 
he  tried  to  get  up ;  but  that  gave  him 
such  a  pain  in  his  loins,  he  was  fain 
to  lie  down  again.  So  then  he  felt 
that  he  had  got  rheumatic  fever.  He 
told  her  so ;  but,  seeing  her  sweet 
anxious  face,  begged  her  not  to  be 
alarmed,  — he  knew  what  to  take  for 
it.     Would  she  be  kind  enough  to  go 


148 


FOUL  PLAY, 


to  his  arsenal  and  fetch  some  speci- 
mens of  \>M-k  slie  woulci  find  there, 
and  also  tlie  kej,^  of  rum  1 

She  flew  at  the  word,  and  soon 
made  him  an  infusion  of  the  barks  in 
boilinf^  water;  to  which  the  rum  was 
added. 

His  sweet  nurse  administered  this 
from  time  to  time.  The  barks  used 
were  of  the  cassia-tree,  and  a  wild 
citron-tree.  Cinciiona  did  not  exist 
in  this  island,  unfortunately.  Perhaps 
there  was  no  soil  for  it  at  a  sufficient 
elevation  al)ove  tlie  sea. 

Nevertheless  with  these  inferior 
barks  they  held  the  fever  in  check. 
But  the  pain  was  obstinate,  and  cost 
Helen  m;iny  a  sijrh  ;  for,  if  she  came 
softly,  she  could  often  hear  him  moan  ; 
and,  tlie  moment  he  heard  her  foot, 
he  set  to  and  whistled,  for  a  blind ; 
with  what  success  may  be  imacined. 
She  would  have  bought  those  pains, 
or  a  portion  of  them  ;  ay,  and  paid 
a  heavy  price  for  them. 

But  pain,  like  everything,  intermits, 
and  in  those  blessed  intervals  his 
mind  was  more  active  than  ever,  and 
ran  a  great  deal  upon  what  lie  called 
the  Problem. 

But  she,  who  had  set  it  him,  gave 
him  little  encouragement  now  to 
puzzle    over  it. 

The  following  may  serve  as  a 
specimen  of  their  conversation  on 
that  head. 

"  The  air  of  this  island,"  said  he, 
"  gives  one  a  sort  of  vague  sense  of 
mental  power.  It  leads  to  no  result 
in  my  case:  still,  it  is  an  agreeable 
sensation  to  have  it  floating  across 
my  mind  that  some  day  I  shall  solve 
the  Great  Problem.  Ah !  if  I  was 
only  an  inventor  !  " 

"  And  so  you  are." 

"  No,  no,"  said  Hazel,  disclaiming 
as  earnestly  as  some  people  claim  ; 
"  I  do  things  that  look  like  acts  of 
invention,  but  they  are  acts  of  mem- 
ory. I  could  show  you  plates  and 
engravings  of  all  the  things  I  have 
seemed  to  invent.  A  man  who 
studies  books  instead  of  skimming 
them  can  cut  a  dash  in  a  desert  isl- 


and, until  the  fatal  word  goes  forth, 
—  invent;  and  then  you  find  him 
out." 

"  I  am  sure  I  wish  I  had  never 
said  the  fatal  word.  You  will  never 
get  well  if  you  puzzle  your  brain  over 
impossibilities." 

"  Im|)Ossil)ilities!  But  is  not  that 
begging  the  question  ?  The  measure 
of  impossibilities  is  lost  in  the  pres- 
ent age.  I  propose  a  test.  Let  us 
go  back  a  century,  and  suppose  that 
tbree  problems  were  laid  before  the 
men  of  that  day,  and  they  were 
asked  to  decide  which  is  the  most 
impossible:  1st,  to  diffuse  intelli- 
gence from  a  fixed  island  over  a 
hundred  leagues  of  water:  2d,  to 
make  the  sun  take  in  thirty  seconds 
likenesses  more  exact  than  any  por- 
trait-painter ever  took, — likenesses 
that  can  be  sold  for  a  shilling  at 
fifty  per  cent  profit :  3d,  for  New 
York  and  London  to  exchange  words 
by  wire  so  much  faster  than  the 
earth  can  turn,  that  London  shall 
tell  New  York  at  ten  on  Monday 
morning  what  was  the  price  of  con- 
sols at  two  o'clock  Monday  after- 
noon." 

"  That  is  a  story,"  said  Helen, 
with  a  look  of  angelic  reproach. 

"  I  accept  that  reply,"  said  Hazel. 
"  As  for  me,  I  have  got  a  smattering 
of  so  many  subjects,  all  full  of  in- 
credible truths,  that  my  faitli  in 
the  impossibility  of  anything  is  gone. 
Ah !  if  James  Watt  was  only  here 
instead  of  John  Hazed,  —  James 
Watt  from  the  Abl)ey  with  a  head  as 
big  as  a  pumpkin,  —  he  would  not 
have  gone  gro])ing  about  the  island, 
writing  on  rocks,  and  erecting  sig- 
nals. No  ;  he  would  have  had  some 
grand  and  bold  idea  worthy  of  the 
proposition." 

"  Well,  so  I  think,"  said  Helen, 
archly  ;  "  that  great  man  with  the 
great  head  would  have  begun  by 
making  a  kite  a  hundred  yards 
high." 

"  Would  he  ?  Well,  he  was  quite 
capable  of  it." 

"  Yes ;  and   rubbed   it  with   phos- 


FOUL  PLAY. 


149 


phorus,  and  flown  it  the  first  tempest, 
and  made  the  string  fast  to  —  the 
island  itself." 

"  Well,  that  is  an  idea,"  said 
Hazel,  stariiifr ;  "  rather  liyperboli- 
cal,  I  fear.  But,  after  all,  it  is  an 
idea." 

"Or  else,"  continued  Helen,  "  he 
would  weave  a  thousand  yards  of 
some  light  fabric,  and  make  balloons  ; 
then  he  would  stop  the  pitch-foun- 
tain, bore  a  hole  in  the  rock  near  it, 
and  so  get  the  gas,  fill  the  balloons, 
inscribe  them  with  our  snd  story  and 
our  latitude  and  longitude,  and  send 
them  flying  all  over  the  ocean,  — 
there ! " 

Hazel  was  amazed. 

"  I  resign  my  functions  to  you," 
said  he.  "  What  imagination  !  What 
invention  ! " 

"  O  dear,  no,"  said  Helen,  slyly  ; 
"  acts  of  memory  sometimes  pass  for 
invention,  you  know.  Shall  I  tell 
you  ?  when  first  you  fell  ill,  you  were 
rather  lightheaded,  and  uttered  the 
strangest  things.  They  would  have 
made  me  laugh  heartily,  only  I 
coidd  n't,  —  for  crying.  And  you  said 
that  about  kites  and  balloons,  every 
word." 

"Did  I?  then  I  have  most  brains 
when  I  have  least  reason,  that 's 
all." 

"  Ay,"  said  Helen,  "  and  other 
strange  things,  —  very  strange  and 
bitter  things.  One  1  should  like  to 
ask  you  about,  what  on  earth  you 
could  mean  by  it;  but  perhaps  you 
meant  nothing,  after  all." 

"  I  '11  soon  tell  you,"  said  Hazel ; 
but  he  took  the  precaution  to  add, 
"  provided  I  know  what  it  means 
myself." 

She  looked  at  him  steadily,  and 
was  on  the  point  of  seeking  the  ex- 
planation so  boldly  offered ;  but  her 
own  courage  failed  her.  She  colored 
and  hesitMted. 

"  I  shall  wait,"  said  she,  "  till  you 
are  quite,  quite  well.  That  will  be 
soon,  I  hope  ;  only  you  must  be  good, 
and  obey  my  prescriptions.  Cultivate 
patience ;   it  is  a  wholesome  plant ; 


bow  the  pride  of  that  intellect  which 
vou  see  a  ievos  can  lay  low  in  an  hour  : 
aspire  no  more  beyond  the  powers  of 
man.  Here  we  shall  stay  unless 
Providence  sends  us  a  ship.  I  have 
ceased  to  repine  :  and  don't  you  be- 
gin. Dismiss  that  problem  altogeth- 
er ;  see  how  hot  it  has  made  your 
poor  brow.  Be  good  now,  and  ilis- 
miss  it ;  or  else  do  as  I  do,  —  fold  it 
up,  put  it  quietly  away  in  a  corner  of 
your  mind,  and,  when  you  least  ex- 
pect, it  will  pop  out  solved." 

[0,  comfortable  doctrine  !  But  how 
about  Jamie  Watt's  headaches  1  And 
why  are  the  signs  of  hard  thoughts 
so  much  stronger  in  his  brow  and  face 
than  in  Shakespeare's  1  Mercy  on  us, 
there  is  another  problem.] 

Hazel  smiled,  well  pleased,  and 
leaned  back,  soothed,  silenced,  sub- 
dued, by  her  soft  voice,  and  the  ex- 
quisite touch  of  her  velvet  hand  on 
his  hot  brow  ;  for,  woman-like,  she 
laid  her  hand  like  down  on  that  burn- 
ing biow  to  aid  her  words  in  soothing 
it.  Nor  did  it  occur  to  him  just  then 
that  this  admonition  delivered  with  a 
kind  maternal  hand,  maternal  voice, 
came  from  the  same  young  lady  who 
had  flown  at  him  like  a  wild-cat  with 
this  very  problem  in  her  mouth.  She 
mesmerized  him,  problem  and  all ; 
he  subsided  into  a  complacent  lan- 
guor, and  at  last  went  to  sleep,  think- 
ing only  of  her.  But  the  topic  had 
entered  his  mind  too  deeply  to  be 
finally  dismissed.  It  returned  next 
day,  though  in  a  different  form.  You 
must  know  that  Hazel,  as  he  lay  on 
his  back  in  the  boat,  had  often,  in 
a  half-drowsy  way,  watched  the  effect 
of  the  sun  upon  the  boat's  mast;  it 
now  stood,  a  bare  pole,  and  at  certain 
hours  acted  like  the  needle  of  a  dial 
by  casting  a  shadow  on  the  sands. 
Above  all,  he  could  see  pretty  well  by 
means  of  this  pole  and  its  shadow 
when  the  sun  attained  its  greatest  ele- 
vation. He  now  asked  Miss  Rolles- 
ton  to  assist  him  in  making  this  ob- 
servation exactly. 

She  obeyed  his  instructions,  and 
the  moment  the  shadow  reached  its 


150 


FOUL  PLAY. 


liijrhest  anffle,  and  sliowocl  the  minut- 
est syiiil'''J"i  ^^  declension,  slie  saiil, 
"  Now,"  and  Hazel  called  out  in  a 
loud  voice ;  — 

"  Noon  !  " 

"And  forty-nine  minutes  past  eight 
at  Sydney,"  said  Helen,  holding  out 
her  chronometer;  for  she  had  been 
sharp  enough  to  get  it  ready  of  her 
own  accord. 

Hazel  looked  at  her  and  at  the 
watch  with  amazement  and  incredu- 
lity. 

"What?"  said  he.  "Impossible. 
You  can't  have  kept  Sydney  time  all 
this  while." 

"  And  pray  why  not?  "  said  Helen. 
"  Have  you  forgotten  that  once  some- 
body praised  me  for  keeping  Sydney 
time  ;  it  helped  you,  somehow  or  oth- 
er, to  know  where  we  were." 

"  And  so  it  will  now,"  cried  Hazel, 
exultingly.  "  But  no  !  it  is  impossi- 
ble. We  have  gone  through  scenes 
that,  —  you  can't  have  wound  that 
watch  up  without  missing  a  day." 

"  Indeed  but  I  have,"  said  Helen. 
"Not  wind  my  watch  up  !  Why,  if  I 
was  dying  I  should  wind  my  watch 
up.  See,  it  requires  no  key  ;  a  touch 
or  two  of  the  fingers  and  it  is  done.  O, 
I  am  remarkably  constant  in  all  my 
habits  ;  and  this  is  an  old  friend  I 
never  ncirlect.  Do  you  remember 
that  terrible  night  in  the  boat,  when 
neither  of  us  expected  to  see  the 
morning,  —  0,  how  good  and  brave 
you  were  !  —  well,  I  remember  wind- 
ing it  up  that  night.  I  kissed  it,  and 
bade  it  good  by  :  but  I  never  dreamed 
of  not  winding  it  up  because  I  was 
going  to  lie  killed.  What !  am  I  not 
to  be  pri\ised  again,  as  I  was  on  board 
ship?  Stingy!  can't  afford  to  praise 
one  twice  for  the  same  thing." 

"  Prai'^ed  !  "  cried  Hazel,  excitedly  ; 
"  worshipped,  you  mean  Why,  we 
have  got  the  longitude  by  means  of 
your  chronometer.  It  is  wonderful! 
It  is  ])rovi(lcntial !  It  is  the  finger  of 
Heaven  !  Pen  and  ink,  and  let  me 
work  it  out." 

In  his  excitement  he  got  up  with- 
out assistance,  and  was  soon  busy  cal- 


culating the  longitude  of   Godsend 
Isle. 


CHAPTER     XL. 

"  There,"  said  he.  "  Now  the 
latitude  I  must  guess  at  by  certain 
comliinations.  In  the  fir.Nt  ])lace  the 
slight  variation  in  the  length  of  the 
days.  Then  I  must  try  and  make  a 
rough  calculation  of  the  sun's  jjaral- 
lax.  And  then  my  botany  will  help 
me  a  little  ;  spices  furnish  a  clew ; 
there  are  one  or  two  that  will  not 
grow  outside  the  tropic.  It  was  the 
longitude  that  beat  me,  and  now  we 
have  conquered  if.  Hurrah  !  Now  I 
know  what  to  dift'use,  and  in  what  di- 
rection ;  east,  southeast ;  the  ducks 
have  shown  me  that  much.  So 
there  's  the  first  step  towards  the  im- 
possible problem." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Helen  ;  "  and  I 
am  sure  one  step  is  enough  for  one 
day.  I  forbid  you  the  topic  for 
twelve  hours  at  least.  I  detest  it  be- 
cause it  always  makes  your  poor  head 
so  hot." 

"  What  on  earth  does  that  mat- 
ter?" said  Hazel,  impetuously,  and 
almost  crossly. 

"  Come,  come,  come,  sir,"  said  Hel- 
en, authoritatively  ;  "  it  matters  to  me." 

But  when  she  saw  that  he  could 
think  of  nothing  else,  and  that  opposi- 
tion irritated  him,  she  had  the  tact 
and  good  sense  not  to  strain  her  au- 
thority, nor  to  irritate  her  subject. 

Hazel  spliced  a  long,  fine-pointed 
stick  to  the  mast-head,  and  set  a 
j)lank  painted  white  with  guano  at 
right  angles  to  the  base  of  the  mast; 
and  so,  whenever  the  sun  attained  his 
meridian  altitude,  went  into  adiiKcult 
and  subtle  calculation  to  arrive  at  the 
latitude,  or  as  near  it  as  he  could 
without  proper  instruments  :  and  ho 
brooded  and  brooded  over  his  discov- 
ery of  tiie  longitude,  but  unfortunately 
he  could  not  advance.  In  some  prob- 
lems the  first  step  once  gained  leads, 
or  at  least  points,  to  the  next ;  but  to 


FOUL  PLAY. 


151 


know  whereabouts  they  were,  and  to 
let  others  know  it,  were  two  difficul- 
ties heterogeneous  and  distinct. 

Having  iliought  and  thought  till  his 
head  was  dizzy,  at  last  he  took  Helen's 
advice  and  put  it  by  for  a  while.  He 
set  himself  to  fit  and  number  a  quan- 
tity of  pearl-oyster  shells,  so  that  he 
might  be  able  to  place  them  at  once, 
when  he  should  be  able  to  recom- 
mence his  labor  of  love  in  the  cavern. 

One  day  Helen  had  left  him  so  em- 
ployed, and  was  busy  cooking  the 
dinner  at  her  own  place,  but,  mind 
you,  with  one  eye  on  the  dinner  and 
anotiieron  her  patient,  when  suddenly 
slie  heard  him  shouting  very  loud,  and 
ran  out  to  see  what  was  the  matter. 

He  was  roaring  like  mad,  and 
whirling  Ids  arms  over  his  head  like 
a  demented  windmill. 

She  ran  to  him. 

"  Eureka  !  Eureka  !  "  he  shouted, 
in  furious  excitement. 

"  0  dear  !  "  cried  Helen  ;  "  never 
mind."  She  was  all  against  her 
I)atient  exciting  himself. 

But  he  was  exalted  beyond  even 
her  control.  "  Crown  me  with  laurel," 
he  cried ;  "  I  have  solved  the  prob- 
lem "  :  and  up  went  liis  arms. 

"  O,  is  that  all  ?  "  said  she,  calmly. 

"  Get  me  two  squares  of  my  parch- 
ment," cried  he ;  "  and  some  of  the 
finest  gut." 

"  Will  not  after  dinner  do  ?  " 

"  No  ;  certainly  not,"  said  Hazel, 
in  a  voice  of  command.  "  I  would  n't 
w;iit  a  moment  for  all  the  flesh-pots 
of  Egypt." 

Tiien  she  went  like  the  wind  and 
fetched  them. 

"  0,  thank  you !  thank  you  !  Now 
I  want,  —  let  me  see,  —  ah,  there's 
an  old  rusty  hoop  that  was  washed 
ashore,  on  one  of  that  ship's  casks.  I 
put  it  carefully  away  ;  how  the  un- 
likeliest  things  come  in  useful«soon 
or  late  ! " 

She  went  for  the  hoop,  but  not  so 
rapiilly,  for  here  it  was  that  the  first 
faint  doubt  of  his  sanity  came  in. 
Ho\\«ever,  she  brought  it,  and  he 
thanked  her. 


"  And  now,"  said  he,  "  while  I 
prepare  the  intelligence,  will  you  be 
so  kind  as  to  fetch  me  the  rushes  1  " 

"  The  whaf?  "  said  Helen,  in  grow- 
ing disma}'. 

"Tiie  rushes  !  I'll  tell  you  where 
to  find  some." 

Helen  thought  the  best  thing  was  to 
temporize.  Perhaps  he  would  be  bet- 
ter after  eating  some  wholesome  food. 
"  I  '11  fetch  them  directly  after  din- 
ner," said  she.  "  But  it  will  be 
spoiled  if  I  leave  it  for  long  ;  and  I 
do  so  want  it  to  be  nice  for  you  to- 
day." 

"  Dinner  1 "  cried  Hazel.  "  What 
do  I  care  for  dinner  now  1  I  am  solv- 
ing my  problem.  I  'd  rather  go  with- 
out dinner  for  3'cars  than  interrupt  a 
great  idea.  Pray  let  dinner  take  its 
chance,  and  obey  me  for  once." 

"  For  once ! "  said  Helen,  and 
turned  her  mild  hazel  eyes  on  him 
with  such  a  look  of  gentle  reproach. 

"  Forgive  me  !  But  don't  take  me 
for  a  child,  asking  you  for  a  toy  ;  1  'ra 
a  poor  crippled  inventor,  who  sees 
daylight  at  last.  0,  I  am  on  fire ; 
and,  if  you  want  me  not  to  go  into  a 
fever,  why,  get  me  my  rushes." 

"  Where  shall  I  find  them  ?  "  said 
Helen,  catching  fire  at  iiim. 

"  Go  to  where  your  old  hut  stood, 
and  follow  the  river  about  a  furlong  : 
you  will  find  a  bed  of  high  rushes  : 
cut  me  a  good  bundle,  cut  them  below 
the  water,  choose  the  stoutest.  Here 
is  a  pair  of  shears  I  found  in  the 
ship." 

She  took  the  shears  and  went  swift- 
ly across  the  sands  and  up  the  slope. 
He  watched  her  with  an  admiring 
eye;  and  well  he  might,  for  it  was 
the  very  poetry  of  motion.  Hazel  in 
his  hours  of  health  had  almost  gi\'en 
up  walking ;  he  ran  from  point  to 
point,  without  fatigue  or  shortness  of 
breath.  Helen,  equally  pressed  for 
time,  did  not  run  ;  but  she  went  al- 
most as  fast.  By  rising  with  the 
dawn,  by  three  meals  a  day  of  animal 
food,  by  constant  work,  and  heavenly 
air,  she  was  in  a  condition  women 
rarely  attain   to.      She  was  trained. 


152 


FOUL  PLAY. 


Ten  miles  was  no  more  to  licr  than 
ten  )'ard3.  And,  when  she  was  in  a 
hurry,  she  got  over  the  {ground  by  a 
grand  but  feminine  motion  not  easy 
to  describe.  It  was  a  scries  of  smooth 
unduhitions,  not  vulgar  strides,  but 
swift  rushes,  in  which  the  loins  seemed 
to  propel  the  whole  body,  and  the  feet 
scarcely  to  touch  the  ground  :  it  was 
the  vigor  and  freedom  of  a  savage, 
with  the  grace  of  a  lady. 

And  so  it  was  she  swept  across  the 
sands  and  up  the  slope, 

Bt  vera  incessu  patuit  Dea- 

While  she  was  gone,  Hazel  cut  two 
little  squares  of  seals'  bladder,  one 
larger  tlian  the  other.  On  the  smaller 
he  wrote  :  "  An  English  lady  wrecked 
on  an  island.  Longitude  ,  S., 
latitude  between  the  and  paral- 
lels. Haste  to  her  rescue."  Then 
he  folded  tliis  small,  and  enclosed  it 
in  the  larger  slip,  which  he  made  into 
a  little  bag,  and  tied  the  neck  ex- 
tremely tight  with  fine  gut,  leaving  a 
long  piece  of  the  gut  free. 

And  now  Helen  came  gliding  back, 
as  she  went,  and  brought  him  a  large 
bundle  of  rushes. 

Then  he  asked  her  to  help  him 
fasten  these  rushes  round  the  iron 
hoop. 

"  It  must  not  be  done  too  regular- 
ly," said  he ;  "  but  so  as  to  look  as 
much  like  a  little  bed  of  rushes  as 
possible." 

Helen  was  puzzled  still,  but  inter- 
ested. So  she  set  to  work,  and,  be- 
tween them,  they  fiistened  rushes  all 
round  the  hoop,  although  it  was  a 
large  one. 

But,  when  it  was  done,  Hazel  said 
they  were  too  bare. 

"  Then  we  will  fasten  another  row," 
said  Helen,  good-humoredly.  And, 
without  more  ado,  she  was  off  to  the 
river  again. 

When  she  came  back,  she  fonnd 
him  up,  and  he  said  the  groat  excite- 
ment had  cured  him,  —  such  power 
has  the  brain  over  the  body.  This 
convinced  her  he  had  really  hit  upon 
some  great  idea.    And,  when  she  had 


made  him  cat  his  dinner  by  her  fire, 
she  asked  him  to  tell  her  all  about  it. 
But,  by  a  natural  reaction,  the 
glorious  and  glowing  excitement  of 
mind  that  had  battled  his  very  rheu- 
matic pains  was  now  followed  by 
doubt  and  dejection. 

"Don't  ask  me  yet,"  lie  sighed. 
"  Theory  is  one  thing ;  practice  is 
another.  We  count  without  our  an- 
tagonists. I  forgot  they  will  set 
their  wits  against  mine  :  and  they  are 
many,  I  am  but  one.  And  1  have 
been  so  often  defeated.  And,  do  you 
know,  I  have  observed  that  whenever 
I  say  beforehand.  Now  I  am  going  to 
do  something  clever,  I  am  always 
defeated.  Pride  really  goes  before 
destruction,  and  vanity  before  a  fall." 

The  female  mind,  rejecting  all  else, 
went  like  a  needle's  point  at  one  thing 
in  this  explanation.  "  Our  antago- 
nists 1 "  said  Helen,  looking  sadly 
puzzled.  "Why,  what  antagonists 
have  we  1 " 

"  The  messengers,"  said  Hazel, 
with  a  groan.  "  The  aerial  messen- 
gers." 

That  did  the  business.  Helen 
dropped  the  subject  with  almost  ludi- 
crous haste  ;  and,  after  a  few  common- 
place observations,  made  a  nice  com- 
fortable dose  of  grog  and  bark  for  him. 
This  she  administered  as  an  indepen- 
dent transaction,  and  not  at  all  by  way 
of  comment  on  his  antagonists,  the 
aerial  messengers. 

It  operated  unkindly  for  her  pur- 
pose ;  it  did  him  so  much  good,  that 
he  lifted  up  his  dejected  head,  and  his 
eyes  sparkled  again,  and  he  set  to 
work,  and,  by  sunset,  prepared  two 
more  bags  of  bladder  with  inscriptions 
inside,  and  long  tails  of  fine  gut  liaiig- 
ing.  He  then  set  to  work,  and,  with 
tingcrs  far  less  adroit  than  hers,  fas- 
tened another  set  of  rushes  round  the 
hoop*  He  set  them  less  evenly,  and 
some  of  them  not  quite  perpendicular; 
and,  while  lie  was  fumbling  over  this, 
and  examining  the  efi'ect  with  paternal 
glances,  Helen's  hazel  eye  dwelt  on 
him  with  furtive  pity;  for,  to  her,. this 
girdle  of  rushes  was   now  an  instru- 


FOUL  PLAY. 


153 


ment  that  bore  an  ugly  likeness  to 
the  sceptre  of  straw,  with  which  van- 
ity run  to  seed  sways  imaginary 
kingdoms  in  Bedhini  or  Bicetre. 

And  yet  he  was  hotter.  He  walked 
ahout  the  cavern  and  conversed 
charmingly  ;  he  was  dictionary,  essay- 
ist, raconteur,  anything  she  liked ; 
and,  as  she  prudently  avoided  and 
ignored  the  one  fatal  topic,  it  was  a 
(lehghiful  evening  :  her  fingers  were 
as  busy  as  his  tongue  :  and,  when  he 
retired,  she  presented  him  with  the 
fi'uits  of  a  fortnight's  work,  a  glorious 
wrapper  rtiade  of  fleecy  cotton  en- 
closed in  a  plaited  web  of  flexible 
and  silky  grasses.  He  thanked  her, 
and  blessed  her,  and  retired  for  the 
night. 

About  midnight  she  awoke  and 
felt  uneasy :  so  she  did  what  since  his 
illness  she  had  done  a  score  of  times 
without  his  knowledge,  —  she  stole 
from  her  lair  to  watch  him. 

She  found  him  wrapped  in  her 
present,  which  gave  her  great  pleas- 
ure ;  and  sleeping  like  an  infant, 
which  gave  her  joy.  She  eyed  him 
eloquently  for  a  long  time  ;  and  then 
very  timidly  put  out  her  hand,  and, 
in  lier  quality  of  nurse,  laid  it  lighter 
than  down  upon  his  brow. 

The  brow  was  cool,  and  a  very 
slight  moisture  on  it  showed  the  fever 
Was  going  or  gone. 

She  folded  her  arms  and  stood  look- 
ing at  him  ;  and  she  thought  of  all 
thoy  two  had  done  and  suffered  to- 
gether. Her  eyes  absorbed  him,  de- 
voured hitn.  The  time  flew  by  un- 
heetled.  It  was  so  sweet  to  be  able  to 
set  her  face  free  from  its  restraint,  and 
let  all  its  sunshine  beam  on  him  ;  and, 
even  when  she  retired  at  last,  those 
light  hazel  eyes,  that  could  flash  fire 
at  times,  but  were  all  dove-like  now, 
hung  and  lingered  on  him  as  if  they 
could  never  look  at  him  enough. 

Half  an  hour  before  daybreak  she 
was  awakened  by  the  dog  howling 
piteously.  She  felt  a  little  uneasy  at 
that :  not  much.  However,  she  got 
up,  and  issued  from  her  cavern,  just 


as  the  sun  showed  his  red  eye  above 
the  horizon.  She  went  towards  the 
boat  as  a  matter  of  course.  She  found 
Ponto  tied  to  the  helin  :  the  boat  was 
empty,  and  Hazel  nowhere  to  be  seen. 

She  uttered  a  scream  of  dismay. 

The  dog  howled  and  whined  louder 
than  ever. 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

Wardlaw  senior  was  not  what  you 
would  call  a  tender-hearted  man  ;  but 
he  was  thoroughly  moved  by  Gener- 
al Rolleston's  distress,  and  by  his  for- 
titude. The  gallant  old  man  !  Land- 
ing in  England  one  week  and  going 
back  to  the  Pacific  the  next !  Like 
goes  with  like  ;  and  Wardlaw  senior, 
energetic  and  resolute  himself,  though 
he  felt  for  his  son,  stricken  down  by 
grief,  gave  his  heart  to  the  more  val- 
iant distress  of  his  contemporary. 
He  manned  and  victualled  the  Spring- 
bok for  a  long  voyage,  ordered  her  to 
Plymouth,  and  took  his  friend  down 
to  her  by  train. 

They  went  out  to  her  in  a  boat. 
She  was  a  screw  steamer,  that  could 
sail  nine  knots  an  hour  without  burn- 
ing a  coal.  As  she  came  down  the 
Channel,  the  General's  trouble  got  to 
be  well  known  on  board  her,  and, 
when  he  came  out  of  the  harbor,  the 
sailors  by  an  honest,  hearty  impulse, 
that  did  them  credit,  waited  for  no 
orders,  but  manned  the  yards  to  re- 
ceive him  with  the  respect  due  to  his 
services  and  his  sacred  calamity. 

On  getting  on  board,  he  saluted  the 
captain  and  the  ship's  company  with 
sad  (lisinity,  and  retired  to  his  cabin 
with  Mr.  Wardlaw.  There  the  old  mer- 
cliant  forced  on  him  by  loan  seven 
hundred  pounds,  chiefly  in  gold  and 
silver,  telling  him  there  was  nothing 
like  money,  go  where  you  will.  He 
then  gave  him  a  number  of  notices 
he  liad  printed,  and  a  paper  of  ad- 
vice and  instructions :  it  was  writ- 
ten in  his  own  large,  clear,  formal 
hand. 

General  Rolleston   tried  to   falter 


154 


FOUL  PLAY. 


out  his  thanks.    John  Wardlaw  inter- 
rupted him. 

"  Next  to  you  I  am  her  father  ;  am 
I  not?" 

"  You  have  proved  it." 

"  Well,  then.  However,  if  you  do 
find  her,  as  I  pray  to  God  you  may,  I 
claim  tlie  second  kiss,  mind  that :  not 
for  myself,  though :  for  my  poor  Ar- 
thur, that  lies  on  a  sick-bed  for  her." 

General  llollcston  assented  to  that 
in  a  broken  voice.  He  could  hardly 
speak. 

And  so  they  parted  :  and  that  sad 
parent  went  out  to  the  Pacific. 

To  him  it  was  indeed  a  sad  and 
gloomy  voyage;  and  the  hope  with 
which  he  went  on  hoard  oozed  gradual- 
ly away  as  the  ship  traversed  tlie  vast 
tracks  of  ocean.  One  immensity  of 
water  to  be  passed  before  that  other 
immensity  could  be  reached,  on  whose 
vast,  uniform  surface  the  search  was 
to  be  made. 

To  abridge  this  gloomy  and  monoto- 
nous ])art  of  our  tale,  suffice  it  to  say 
that  he  endured  two  months  of  water 
and  iiitinity  ere  the  vessel,  fast  as  she 
was,  reached  Valparaiso.  Their  prog- 
ress, however,  had  been  more  tlum  once 
interrupted  to  carry  out  WardLiw's  in- 
structions. The  poor  General  him- 
self had  but  one  idea;  to  go  and 
search  the  Pacific  with  his  own  eyes  ; 
but  Wardlaw,  more  experienced,  di 
rected  him  to  overhaul  every  whaler 
and  coasting  vessel  he  could,  and  de- 
liver j)rintcd  notices  ;  telling  the  s;\d 
story,  and  offering  a  reward  for  any 
positive  information,  good  or  bad, 
that  should  bo  brought  in  to  his  agent 
at  Valparaiso.  Acting  on  these  in- 
structions tliey  had  overhauled  two  or 
three  coasting  vessels  as  they  steamed 
up  from  the  Horn.  They  now  pla- 
carded the  port  of  Valparaiso,  and  put 
the  notices  on  board  all  vessels  bound 
westward  ;  and  the  captain  of  the 
Springbok  sjiokc  to  tlieskijipcrs  in  the 
port.  But  they  all  shook  their  heads, 
and  could  hardly  be  got  to  give  their 
minds  seriously  to  the  infjuiry,  when 
they  heard  in  what  water  the  cutter 
was  last  seen  and  on  what  course. 


One  old  skipper  said,  "  Look  on 
Juan  Fernandez,  and  then  at  the  bot- 
tom of  the  I'acilie ;  but  the  sooner 
you  look  there  the  less  time  you  will 
lose." 

From  Valparaiso  they  ran  to  Juan 
Fernandez,  which  indeed  seemed  the 
likeliest  place;  if  she  was  alive. 

When  the  larger  island  of  that 
group,  the  island  dear  alike  to  you 
who  read,  and  to  us  who  write,  this 
tale,  came  in  sight,  the  father's  heart 
began  to  beat  higher. 

The  ship  anchored  and  took  in 
coal,  which  was  furnished  at  a  wick- 
edly higii  jn-ice  by  Mr.  Joshua  Fulla- 
love,  who  had  virtually  purchased  the 
island  from  Chili,  having  got  it  on 
lease  for  longer  than  the  earth  itself 
is  to  last,  we  hear. 

And  now  RoUeston  found  the  value 
of  Wardlaw's  loan ;  it  enabled  him  to 
prosecute  his  search  tiu'ough  the  whole 
group  of  islands ;  and  he  did  hear  at 
last  of  three  persons  wiio  had  been 
wrecked  on  Masa  Fucro  ;  one  of  them 
a  female.  He  followed  this  up,  and  at 
last  discovered  the  parties.  He  found 
them  to  be  Spaniards,  and  the  woman 
smoking  a  ])ipe. 

After  this  bitter  disappointment  he 
went  back  to  the  ship,  and  she  was  to 
weigh  her  anchor  next  morning. 

But,  while  General  Rolleston  was  at 
Masa  Fuero,  a  small  coasting  vessel 
had  come  in,  and  brouglit  a  strange 
report  at  second-hand,  that  in  some 
degree  unsettled  Captain  Moreland's 
mind  ;  and,  being  hotly  discussed  on 
the  forecastle,  set  the  ship's  company 
in  a  ferment. 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

n.vzKL  had  risen  an  hour  before 
dawn  for  reasons  well  known  to  him- 
self. He  put  on  his  worst  clothes, 
and  a  leathern  belt,  his  little  bags 
round  his  neck,  and  took  his  bundle 
of  ruslies  in  his  hand.  He  also  pro- 
vided himself  with  some  pieces  of 
raw  fish  and  fresh  oyster ;  and,  thus 
equipped,  went  up  through  Terrapin 


FOUL  PLAY. 


155 


Wood,  and  got  to  the  neio^hborhood 
of  the  higoons  before  daybreak. 

There  was  a  heavy  steam  on  the 
water,  and  notliiiig  else  to  be  seen. 
He  put  the  hoop  over  liis  head,  and 
■walked  into  the  water,  not  without  an 
internal  shudder,  it  looked  so  cold. 

But,  instead  of  that,  it  was  very 
warm,  nnaceountably  warm.  He 
walked  in  up  to  his  middle,  and  tied 
his  iron  hoop  to  his  belt,  so  as  to 
prevent  it  sinking  too  deep.  This 
done,  he  waited  motionless,  and 
seemed  a  little  bed  of  rushes.  The 
sun  rose,  and  the  steam  gradually 
cleared  away,  and  Hazel,  peering 
through  a  hole  or  two  he  had  made 
expressly  in  his  bed  of  rushes,  saw 
several  ducks  floating  about,  and  one 
in  particular,  all  purple,  without  a 
speck  but  his  amber  eye.  He  con- 
trived to  detach  a  piece  of  fish,  that 
soon  floated  to  the  surface  near  him. 
But  no  duck  moved  towards  it.  He 
tried  another,  and  another ;  then  a 
mallard  he  had  not  observed  swam 
up  from  behind  him,  and  was  soon 
busy  pecking  at  it  within  a  yard  of 
him.  His  heart  beat ;  he  glided  slowly 
and  cautiously  forward  till  the  bird 
was  close  to  the  rushes. 

Hazel  stretched  out  his  hand  with 
the  utmost  care,  caught  hold  of  the 
bird's  feet,  and  dragged  him  sharply 
under  the  water,  and  brought  him  up 
within  the  circle  of  the  rushes.  He 
quacked  and  struggled.  Hazel  soused 
him  under  directly,  and  so  quenched 
the  sound ;  then  he  glided  slowly  to 
the  bank,  so  slowly  that  the  rushes 
merely  seemed  to  drift  asiiore.  This 
he  did  not  to  create  suspicion,  and  so 
spoil  the  next  attempt.  As  he  glided, 
he  gave  his  duck  air  every  now  and 
then,  and  soon  got  on  terra  firma. 
By  this  time  he  had  taught  the  duck 
not  to  quack,  or  he  would  get  soused 
and  held  under.  He  now  took  the 
long  gut-end  and  tied  it  tight  round 
the  bird's  leg,  and  so  fastened  tlie  bag 
to  him.  Even  while  he  was  effecting 
this,  a  posse  of  ducks  rose  at  the  west 
end  of  the  marsh,  and  took  their  fligiit 
from    the    island.     As    they   passed, 


Hazel  threw  his  captive  up  in  the  air  ; 
and  such  was  the  force  of  example, 
aided,  perhaps,  by  the  fright  the  cap- 
tive had  received,  that  Hazel's  bird 
instantly  joined  these  travellers,  rose 
with  them  into  the  high  currents,  and 
away,  bearing  the  news  eastward  up- 
on the  wings  of  the  wind.  Then 
Hazel  returned  to  the  pool,  and  twice 
more  he  was  so  fortunate  as  to  secure 
a  bird,  and  launch  him  into  space. 

So  hard  is  it  to  measure  the  wit  of 
man,  and  to  define  his  resources.  The 
problem  was  solved  ;  the  aerial  mes- 
sengers were  on  the  wing,  diffusing 
over  hundreds  of  leagues  of  water  the 
intelligence  that  an  English  lady  had 
been  wrecked  on  an  unknown  island, 
in  longitude  103  deg  30  min.,  and  be- 
tween the  32d  and  25th  parallels  of 
south  latitude  ;  and  calling  good  men 
and  ships  to  her  rescue  for  the  love  of 
God. 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

And  now  for  the  strange  report 
that  landed  at  Juan  Fernandez  while 
General  Rolleston  was  searching  Masa 
Fuero. 

The  coaster  who  brought  it  ashore 
had  been  in  company,  at  Valparaiso, 
with  a  whaler  from  Nantucket,  who 
told  him  he  had  fallen  in  with  a 
Dutch  whaler  out  at  sea,  and  distressed 
for  water  :  he  had  supplied  the  said 
Dutchman,  who  had  thanked  him, 
and  given  him  a  runlet  of  Hollands, 
and  had  told  him  in  conversation  that 
he  had  seen  land  and  a  river  reflected 
on  the  sky,  in  waters  where  no  land 
was  marked  in  the  chart ;  namely, 
somewhere  between  Juan  Fernandez 
and  Norfolk  Island ;  and  that,  believ- 
ing this  to  be  the  reflection  of  a  part 
of  some  island  near  at  hand,  and  his 
water  being  low,  though  not  at  that 
time  run  out,  he  had  gone  considera- 
bly out  of  bis  course  in  hopes  of  find- 
ing this  watered  island,  but  could  see 
nothing  of  it.  Nevertheless,  as  his 
grandfather,    who    had    been    sixty 


156 


FOUL   PLAY. 


years  at  sea,  and  logfrcd  many  won- 
derful things,  had  told  him  the  sky 
had  been  known  to  reflect  hotii  ships 
and  hind  at  a  greiit  distance,  he  fully 
believed  there  was  an  island  somewhere 
in  that  longitude,  not  down  on  any 
chart :  an  island  wooded  and  watered. 

This  tale  soon  boarded  tlie  Spring- 
bok, and  was  hotly  discussed  on  tiie 
forecastle.  It  came  to  Captain  More- 
hind's  ears,  and  he  examined  tiie 
skipper  of  the  coasting-smack.  But 
this  examination  elicited  nothing  new, 
inasmuch  as  the  skipper  had  the  tale 
only  at  thiid  hand.  Cajjtain  More- 
land,  however,  communicated  it  to 
General  Roileston  on  his  arrival,  and 
asked  him  whether  he  thouglit  it 
worth  while  to  deviate  from  their  in- 
structions upon  information  of  such  a 
character.  Roileston  shook  his  head. 
"  An  island  reflected  in  the  sky !  " 

"  No,  sir  :  a  portion  of  an  island 
containing  a  river." 

"  It  is  clearly  a  fable,"  said  Roiles- 
ton, with  a  sigh. 

"  What  is  a  feble,  General  ?  " 

"  That  the  sky  can  reflect  terrestrial 
objects." 

"  O,  there  I  can't  go  with  you. 
The  phenomenon  is  rare,  but  it  is 
well  established.  I  never  saw  it  my- 
self, but  I  have  come  across  those  that 
have.  Suppose  we  catechise  the  fore- 
castle.    Hy  !     Fok'sel !  " 

"  Sir ! " 

"  Send  a  man  aft :  the  oldest  sea- 
man aboard." 

"  Ay,  ay,  sir." 

There  was  some  little  delay  :  and 
then  a  sailor  of  about  sixty  slouched 
aft,  made  a  sea  scrape,  and,  removing 
his  cap  entirely,  awaited  the  captain's 
commands. 

"  My  man,"  said  the  captain,  "  I 
want  you  to  answer  a  question.  Do 
you  believe  land  and  ships  have  ever 
been  seen  in  the  sky,  reflected  ?  " 

"  A  many  good  seamen  holds  to 
that,  sir,"  said  the  sailor,  cautiously. 

"  Is  it  the  general  opinion  of  sea- 
men before  the  mast  ?  Come,  tell  us. 
Jack  's  as  good  as  his  master  in  these 
matters." 


"  Could  n't  say  for  boys  and  lubbers, 
sir.  But  I  never  met  a  full-grown  sea- 
man as  denied  that  there.  Sartainly 
few  has  seen  it :  but  all  of  em  has 
seen  them  as  has  seen  it ;  ships,  and 
land,  too  ;  but  mostly  ships.  Hows'- 
ever,  I  had  a  messmate  once  as  was 
sailing  past  a  rock  they  call  Ailsa 
Craig,  and  saw  a  regiment  of  soldiers 
marching  in  the  sky.  Logged  it,  did 
the  mate ;  and  them  soldiers  was  a 
marching  between  two  towns  in  Ire- 
land at  that  very  time." 

"  There,  you  see,  General,"  said 
Captain  Moreland. 

"  But  this  is  all  second-hand,"  said 
General  Roileston,  with  a  sigh  ;  "  and 
I  have  learned  bow  everything  gets 
distorted  in  passing  from  one  to  an- 
other." 

"  Ah,"  said  the  captain,  "  we  can't 
help  that ;  the  thing  is  rare.  I  never 
saw  it  for  one  ;  and  I  suppose  you 
never  saiv  a  phenomenon  of  the  kind, 
Isaac  1 " 

"  Hain't  I !  "  said  Isaac,  grimly. 
Then,  with  sudden  and  not  very  rea- 
sonable  heat,    "  D my  eyes  and 

limbs  if  I  hain't  seen  the  Peak  o' 
TenerifFe  in  the  sky  topsy-turvy,  and 
as  plain  as  I  see  that  there  cloud 
there"  (pointing  upwards). 

"  Come,"  said  Morehnid  ;  "  now 
we  are  getting  to  it.  Tell  us  all 
about  that." 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  the  seaman,  "  I 
don't  care  to  larn  them  as  laughs  at 
everything  they  hain't  seen  in  maybe 
a  dozen  voyages  at  most ;  but  you 
know  me,  and  I  knows  you  ;  thou'.:;]i 
you  command  the  ship,  and  I  work 
before  the  mast.  Now  I  a.xes  yon,  sir, 
should  you  say  Isaac  Aiken  was  the 
man  to  take  a  sugar-loaf,  or  a  cocked 
hat,  for  the  Peak  o'  TenerifPi  ?  " 

"  As  likely  as  I  am  myself,  Isaac." 

"  No  commander  can  say  fairer  nor 
that,"  said  Isaac,  with  dignity. 
"  W^ell,  then,  }oin-  honor,  I'll  tell  yo 
the  truth,  and  no  lie  :  We  was  bound 
for  Teneriffc  with  a  fair  wind,  though 
not  so  much  of  it  as  we  wanted,  by 
reason  she  was  a  good  sea-boat,  but 
broad  in  the  bows.     The  Peak  hove 


FOUL  PLAY. 


157 


in  sight  in  the  sky,  and  all  the  glasses 
was  at  her.  Slu;  lay  a  point  or  two 
oil  our  weather-quarter  like,  full  two 
hours,  and  then  slie  just  melted  away 
like  a  lump  o'  sugar.  Wo  ke[it  on 
our  cour^e  a  day  and  a  half,  and  at 
last  we  sighted  tlie  real  Peak,  and 
anehored  otf  the  port ;  wiiereby,  when 
we  saw  Teneriffe  Peak  in  the  sky  to 
winnard,  she  lay  a  hundred  leagues  to 
looard,  s'  help  me  God !  " 

"  That  is  wonderful,"  said  General 
Rolleston. 

"  TJiat  will  do,  Isaac,"  said  the 
captain.  "  Mr.  Butt,  double  his  grog 
for  a  week,  for  having  seen  more  than 
I  have." 

The  captain  and  General  Rolleston 
had  a  long  discussion  ;  but  the  result 
was,  tliey  determined  to  go  to  Easter 
Island  first,  for  General  Rolleston  was 
a  soldier,  and  had  learned  to  obey  as 
well  as  command.  He  saw  no  suffi- 
cient ground  for  deviating  from  AVard- 
law's  positive  instructions. 

This  decision  soon  became  known 
throughout  the  ship  ;  and  she  was  to 
weiiih  anchor  at  11  a.m.  next  day, by 
high  water. 

At  eight  next  morning,  Captain 
Moreland  and  General  Rolleston 
being  on  deck,  one  of  the  ship's  boys, 
a  regular  pet,  with  rosy  cheeks  and 
black  eyes,  conies  up  to  the  gentle- 
men, takes  otf  his  cap,  and,  panting 
audibly  at  his  own  audacity,  shoves  a 
paper  into  General  Rolleston's  hand, 
and  scuds  away  for  his  life. 

"  This  won't  do,"  said  the  captain, 
sternly. 

The  high-bred  soldier  handed  the 
paper  to  him  unopened. 

The  captiun  opened  it,  looked  a 
little  vexed,  but  more  amused,  and 
handed  it  back  to  the  General. 

It  was  a  Round  Robin. 

Round  Robins  are  not  ingratiating 
as  a  rule.  But  this  one  came  from 
some  rouyrh  but  honest  fellows,  who 
had  already  shown  that  kindliness  and 
tact  may  reside  in  a  coarse  envelope. 
The  sailors  of  the  Sprhigbok,  when 
they  first  boarded  her  in  the  Thames, 


looked  on  themselves  as  men  bound 
on  an  empty  cruise  ;  and  nothing  but 
the  pay,  whicli  was  five  shillings  per 
n)onth  al)ove  the  average,  reconciled 
them  to  it ;  for  a  sailor  does  not  like 
going  to  sea  for  nothing,  any  more 
than  a  true  sportsman  likes  to  ride  to 
liounds  that  arc  hunting  a  red  herring 
trailed. 

But  the  sight  of  the  General  had 
touched  them  afar  off.  His  gray  hair 
and  pale  face,  seen  as  he  rowed  out 
of  Plymouth  Harbor,  had  sent  them 
to  the  yards  b}'  a  gallant  impulse  ; 
and  all  through  the  voyage  the  game 
had  been  to  put  on  an  air  of  alacrity 
and  hope,  whenever  they  passed  the 
General  or  came  under  his  aye. 

If  hypocrisy  is  always  a  crime,  this 
was  a  very  criminal  ship  ;  for  the 
men,  and  even  the  boys,  were  hypo- 
crites, who,  feeling  quite  sure  that  the 
daughter  was  dead  at  sea  months  ago, 
did,  nevertheless,  make  up  their  faces 
to  encourage  the  father  into  thinking 
she  was  alive  and  he  was  going  to 
find  her.  But  people  who  pursue  this 
game  too  long,  and  keep  up  the  hopes 
of  another,  get  infected  at  last  them- 
selves; and  the  crew  of  the  Spring- 
bok arrived  at  Valparaiso  infected 
with  a  little  hope.  Then  came  the 
Dutchmiin's  tale,  and  the  discussion, 
which  ended  adversely  to  their  views  ; 
and  this  elicited  the  circular  we  have 
now  the  honor  to  lay  before  our  read- 
ers. 

General  Rolleston  and  Captain 
Moreland  returned  to  the  cabin  and 
discussed  this  document.  They  came 
on  deck  again,  and  the  men  were 
piped  aft.  General  Rolleston  touched 
his  cap,  and,  with  tiie  Round  Robin  in 
his  hand,  addressed  them  thus:  — 

"My  men,  I  thank  you  for  taking 
my  trouble  to  heart  as  you  do.  But 
it  would  be  a  bad  return  to  send  any 
of  you  to  Easter  Island  in  that  cut- 
ter ;  for  she  is  not  sea-worthy  :  so  the 
captain  tells  me.  I  will  not  consent 
to  throw  away  your  lives  in  trying  to 
save  a  life  that  is  dear  to  me  :  but,  as 
to  the  Dutchman's  story  about  an 
unknown  island,  our  captain  seems 


158 


FOUL  PLAY. 


We  ivho  sign 

About  this  line, 

hope  none  offence   and  mean  none. 

We  think  Easter  Island  is  out  of  her  course. 

^Such  of  us  as  can  be  spared  are  ready  and  rf  xl*^ 

willing  to  take  the  old  cutter,  that  lies  for  sale, 

to  Easter  Island  if  needs  be ;  but  to  waste  the 

^^Vldijiy^    Steamer  it  is  a  Pity.     We  are  all  agreed  the  Dutch  l-pv\  Jem 


.jlOI 


6a-i£> 


J'i 


skipper  saw  land  and  water  aloft  sailing  beticeen 
Juan  Fernandez   and  Norfolk    Isle,   and  what  a 
Dutchman  can  see  on  the  sky  we  think  an  Eng- 
,f.()\[lisJininn   can  find  it   in   the   sea,    God  icilling.   ^ 

Whereby    ice   pray    our    good    Captain     to  ^ 

fulloio    the  Dutchman's  course   with    a 


.# 


.:^^'^^ 


.0^ 


good   heart    and   a    icilling    crew.  ^ 


A  nd  so  say  we 
Whose  names  here  be. 


^ 


.O) 


to  tliink  that  is  possible  ;  and  you  tell 
us  you  are  of  the  same  opinion. 
Well,  then,  I  jrive  up  my  own  judg- 
ment, and  yield  to  yours.  Yes,  we 
will  <jo  westward  with  a  good  heart 
(he  sighed),  and  a  willing  erew." 

The  men  ciieered.  The  boatswain 
piped  ;  the  anchor  was  heaved,  and 
the  Sprin;;bok  went  out  on  a  course 
that  hade  fair  to  carry  her  within  a 
hundred  miles  of  Godsend  Island. 

She  ran  fast.  On  the  second  day 
some  ducks  passed  over  her  head,  one 
of  which  was  observed  to  have  some- 
thing' attached  to  its  le; 


Mount  Lookout ;  but  never  saw 
Godsend  Island ;  and  so  pursued  her 
way  to  the  Society  Islands  ;  sent  out 
her  boats  ;  made  everv  inquiry  around 
about  the  islands,  but  with  no  suc- 
cess ;  and,  at  last,  after  losing  a 
couple  of  months  there,  brought  the 
heart-sick  father  back  on  much  the 
same  course,  but  rather  more  north- 
erly. 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

Hazel   returned   homewards  in  a 
glow  of  triumph,  and    for  once   felt 


She  passed   within   sixty  miles  of ,  disposed  to  brag  to  Helen  of  his  vie- 


FOUL  PLAY, 


159 


tory,  —  a  victory  by  which  she  was 
to  profit ;  not  he. 

They  met  in  the  wood  ;  for  she  had 
tracked  liim  by  his  footsteps.  She 
seemed  pale  and  disturbed,  and 
speedily  interrupted  his  exclamations 
of  triumph  by  one  of  delii^ht,  which 
was  soon,  however,  followed  by  one 
of  distress. 

"  O,  look  at  you ! "  she  said. 
"  You  have  been  in  the  water :  it  is 
wicked ;  wicked." 

"  But  I  have  solved  the  problem. 
I  caught  three  ducks  one  after  the 
other,  and  tied  the  intelligence  to 
their  legs  :  they  are  at  this  moment 
careering  over  the  ocean,  with  our 
story  and  our  longitude,  and  a  guess 
at  our  latitude.  Crown  me  with 
bays." 

"  With  foolscap,  more  likely,"  said 
Helen:  "only  just  getting  well  of 
rheumatic  fever,  and  to  go  and  stand 
in  water  up  to  the  middle." 

"  Why,  you  don't  listen  to  me  !  " 
cried  Hazel,  in  amazement.  "  I 
tell  you  I  have  solved  the  prob- 
lem." 

"  It  is  you  that  don't  listen  to  com- 
mon sense,"  retorted  Helen.  "If  you 
go  and  make  yourself  ill,  all  the 
problems  in  the  world  will  not  com- 
pensate me.  And  I  must  say  I  think 
it  was  not  very  kind  of  you  to  run  off  so 
without  warning  :  why  give  me  hours 
of  anxiety  for  want  of  a  word  1  But 
there,  it  is  useless  to  argue  with  a 
boy  :  yes,  sir,  a  boy.  The  fact  is,  I 
have  been  too  easy  with  you  of  late. 
One  indulges  sick  children.  But 
then  they  must  not  slip  away  and 
stand  in  the  water,  or  there  is  an  end 
of  indulgence ;  and  one  is  driven  to 
severity.  You  must  be  ruled  with  a 
rod  of  iron.  Go  home  this  moment, 
sir,  and  change  your  clothes  ;  and 
don't  you  presume  to  come  into  the 
presence  of  the  nurse  you  have  of- 
fended, till  there  's  not  a  wet  thread 
about  you." 

And  so  she  ordered  him  off.  The 
inventor  in  his  moment  of  victory 
slunk  away  crestfallen  to  change  his 
clothes. 


So  far  Helen  Rolleston  was  a  type 
of  her  sex  in  its  treatment  of  in- 
ventors. At  breakfast  she  became  a 
brilliant  exception.  The  moment  siie 
saw  Hazel  seated  by  her  lire  in  dry 
clothes  she  changed  her  key,  and 
made  him  relate  the  whole  business, 
and  expi-essed  the  warmest  admira- 
tion and  sympathy. 

"But,"  said  she,  "I  do  ask  you 
not  to  repeat  this  exploit  too  often ; 
now  don't  do  it  again  for  a  fortnight. 
The  island  will  not  run  away.  Ducks 
come  and  go  every  day,  and  your 
health  is  very,  very  precious." 

He  colored  with  pleasure,  and  made 
the  promise  at  once.  But  during 
this  fortnight  events  occurred.  In 
the  first  place,  he  improved  his  in- 
vention. He  remembered  how  a  duck, 
over-weighted  iiy  a  crab,  which  was 
fast  to  her  leg,  had  come  on  board  the 
boat.  Memory  dwelling  on  this,  and 
invention  digesting  it,  he  resolved  to 
weight  his  next  batch  of  ducks ;  for 
he  argued  thus  :  "  Probably  our  ducks 
go  straight  from  this  to  the  great 
American  Continent.  Then  it  may 
be  long  ere  one  of  them  falls  into  the 
hands  of  a  man ;  and  perhaps  that 
man  will  not  know  English.  But,  if 
I  could  impede  the  flight  of  my  ducks, 
they  might  alight  on  ships  :  and  three 
ships  out  of  four  know  English." 

Accordingly,  he  now  inserted  stones 
of  various  sizes  into  the  little  bags.  It 
was  a  matter  of  nice  calculation  :  the 
problem  was  to  weight  the  birds  just  so 
much  that  they  might  be  able  to  fly 
three  or  four  hundred  miles,  or  about 
half  as  far  as  their  unencumbered 
companions. 

But  in  the  midst  of  all  this  a  cir- 
cumstance occurred  that  would  have 
made  a  vain  man,  or  indeed  most 
men,  fling  tlie  whole  thing  away. 
Helen  and  he  came  to  a  rupture.  It 
began  by  her  fault,  and  continued  by 
his.  She  did  not  choose  to  know  her 
own  mind,  and,  in  spite  of  secret 
warnings  from  her  better  judgment, 
she  was  driven  by  curiosity,  or  by  the 
unhappy  restlessness  to  which  her  sex 
are  peculiarly  subject  at  odd  times,  to 


IGO 


FOUL   PLAY. 


sound  Hazel  as  to  the  meaning  of  a 
certain  epitinim  tliat  rujikkd  in  her. 
And  stie  (lid  it  in  tiic  most  feminine 
way,  liiat  is  to  say,  in  the  least  direct : 
whereas  the  safest  way  would  liave 
heen  to  grasp  the  nettle,  if  she  could 
not  let  it  alone. 

8aitl  she  one  day,  quietly,  though 
with  a  deep  blush  :  "  Do  you  know 
Mr.  Arthur  Wardlaw  1  " 

Hazel  gave  a  shiver,  and  said,  "  I 
do." 

"  Do  you  know  anything  about 
him  1  " 

"  I  do." 

"  Nothing  to  his  discredit,  I  am 
sure." 

"  If  you  are  sure,  why  ask  me  1 
Do  I  ever  mention  his  name  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  you  do,  sometimes,  with- 
out intending  it." 

"  You  are  mistaken  :  he  is  in  your 
thoughts,  no  doul)t ;  but  not  in  mine." 

"  (iught  I  to  forget  people  entirely, 
and  what  I  owe  them  i  " 

"  That  is  a  question  I  decline  to  go 
into." 

"  How  harshly  you  speak  to  me. 
Is  that  fair?  You  know  my  engage- 
ment, and  tliat  honor  and  duty  draw 
me  to  Kngland  ;  yet  I  am  ha])py  here. 
You,  who  are  so  good  and  strong, 
might  pity  me  at  least ;  for  I  am  torn 
this  way  and  that " :  and  here  the 
voice  ceased,  and  the  tears  began  to 
flow. 

"  I  do  pity  you,"  said  Hazel :  "  I 
must  pity  any  one  who  is  obliged  to 
mention  honor  and  duty  in  the  same 
breath  as  Arthur  Wardlaw." 

At  this  time  Helen  drew  back,  of- 
fended bitterl}'.  "  lliat  j)ity  I  reject 
and  scorn,"  said  she.  "  No,  I  plight- 
ed my  faiih  with  my  eyes  open,  and 
to  a  worthy  oliject.  I  never  knew 
him  blacken  any  person  who  was  not 
there  to  speak  for  himself,  and  that 
is  a  very  worthy  trait,  in  my  opin- 
ion. 'I'he  ai)scnt  are  like  children  ; 
they  are  helpless  to  defend  them- 
selves." 

Hazel  racked  with  jealousy,  and  ir- 
ritated at  this  galling  comparison, 
lost  liis   temper   for  once,  and  said 


those  who  lay  traps  must  not  com- 
plain if  others  fall  into  them. 

"  Traps  !     Who  lay  them  t  " 

"  You  did.  Miss  Kolleston.  Did  I 
ever  condescend  to  mention  that  man's 
name  since  we  have  been  on  the  isl- 
and ?  It  is  you  make  me  talk  of 
him." 

"  Condescend  ?  " 

"  That  is  tlie  word.  Nor  will  I 
ever  deign  to  mention  him  ai;ain.  If 
my  love  had  touched  your  heart,  I 
should  have  been  obliged  to  mention 
him,  for  then  I  should  have  been 
bound  to  tell  you  a  story  in  which  he 
is  mixed,  my  own  miserable  story,  — 
my  blood  boils  against  the  human 
race  when  1  think  of  it.  But  no,  I 
see  I  am  nothing  to  you ;  and  I  will 
lie  silent." 

"  It  is  very  cruel  of  you  to  say 
that,"  replied  Helen,  with  tears  in  her 
eyes  ;  "  tell  me  your  story,  and  you 
will  see  whether  you  are  nothing  to 
me." 

"  Not  one  word  of  it,"  said  Hazel, 
slowly,  "  until  you  have  forgotten 
that  man  exists." 

"  Oh  !  thank  you,  sir,  this  is  plain 
speaking.  I  am  to  forget  honor  and 
plighted  faith  ;  and  then  you  will  trust 
jne  with  your  secrets,  when  I  have 
shown  myself  unworthy  to  be  trusted 
with  anything.  Keep  your  secrets, 
and  I  '11  try  and  keep  faith  ;  ay,  and 
I  shall  keep  it,  too,  as  long  as  there  's 
life  in  my  body." 

"  Can't  you  keep  faith  without  tor- 
turing me,  who  love  you  ?  " 

Helen's  bosom  began  to  heave  at 
this,  but  she  fbusrht  bravely.  "  Love 
me  less,  and  respect  me  more,"  said 
she,  panting ;  "you  afiVont  me,  you 
frigiiten  me.  I  looked  on  you  as  a 
brother,  a  dear  brother.  But  now  I 
am  afraid  of  you  —  I  am  afraid  —  " 

He  was  so  injudicious  as  to  inter- 
rupt her,  instead  of  giving  her  time 
to  contradict  herself.  "  You  have 
nothing  to  fear,"  said  he;  "  keep  this 
side  of  the  inland,  and  I  'II  live  on  the 
other,  rather  than  hear  the  name  of 
Arthur  Wardlaw." 

Helen's  courage  failed  her  at  that 


FOUL  PLAY. 


161 


spirited  proposal,  and  she  made  no 
reply  at  all,  but  turned  lier  hack 
haughtily,  and  went  away  from  him, 
only,  when  she  had  got  a  little  way, 
her  proud  head  droojjed,  and  she  went 
crying. 

A  coolness  sprang  up  between  them, 
and  neither  of  them  knew  how  to  end 
it.  Hazel  saw  no  way  to  serve  her 
now,  except  by  flying  weighted  ducks, 
and  he  gave  his  mind  so  to  this  that 
one  day  he  told  her  he  had  twenty- 
seven  ducks  in  the  air,  all  charged, 
and  two  thirds  of  them  weighted.  He 
thought  that  must  please  her  now.  To 
his  surprise  and  annoyance,  she  re- 
ceived the  intelligence  coldly,  and 
asked  him  whether  it  was  not  cruel 
to  the  birds. 

Hazel  colored  with  mortification  at 
his  great  act  of  self-denial  being  so 
received. 

He  said,  "  I  don't  think  my  worst 
enemy  can  say  I  am  wantonly  cruel 
to  God's  creatures." 

Helen  threw  in,  deftly,  "  And  I  am 
not  your  worst  enemy." 

"  But  what  other  way  is  there  to 
liberate  you  from  this  island,  where 
you  have  nobody  to  speak  to  but 
me  ■?  Well,  selfishness  is  the  best 
course.  Think  only  of  others,  and 
you  are  sure  not  to  please  them." 

"  If  you  want  to  jjlease  people,  you 
must  begin  by  understanding  them," 
said  the  lady,  not  ill-naturedly. 

"  But  if  they  don't  understand 
themselves  ?  " 

"  Then  pity  them  ;  you  can,  for 
3'ou  are  a  man." 

"  What  hurts  me,"  said  Hazel,  "  is 
that  you  really  seem  to  think  I  fly 
these  ducks  for  my  pleasure.  Why, 
if  I  had  my  wish,  you  and  I  should 
never  leuve  this  island,  nor  any  other 
person  set  a  foot  on  it.  I  am  frank, 
you  see." 

"  Kather  too  frank." 

"  What  does  it  matter,  since  I  do 
my  duty  all  the  same,  and  fly  the 
ducks?  But  sometimes  I  do  yearn 
for  a  word  of  praise  for  it ;  and  that 
word  never  comes." 

"  It  is  a  praiseworthy  act,"  said 
11 


Helen,  but  so  icily  that  it  is  a  wonder 
he  ever  flew  another  duck  after  that. 

"  No  matter,"  said  he,  and  liis 
hand  involuntarily  sought  his  heart ; 
"  you  read  me  a  sharp  but  wholesome 
lesson,  that  we  should  do  our  duty 
for  our  duty's  sake.  And  as  I  am 
quite  sure  it  is  my  duty  to  liberate 
you  and  restore  you  to  those  you  — 
I  '11  fly  three  ducks  to-morrow  morn- 
ing instead  of  two." 

"  It  is  not  done  by  my  advice,"  said 
Helen.  "  You  will  certainly  make 
yourself  ill." 

"  O,  that  is  all  nonsense ! "  said 
Hazel. 

"  You  are  rude  to  me,"  said  Helen, 
"  and  I  am  not  aware  that  I  deserve 
it." 

"  Rude,  am  I  ?  Then  I  '11  say  no 
more,"  said  Hazel,  half  humbly,  half 
doggedly. 

His  parchment  was  exhausted,  and 
he  was  driven  to  another  expedient. 
He  obtained  alcohol  by  distillation  from 
rum,  and  having  found  dragon's  blood 
in  its  pure  state,  little  ruby  drops, 
made  a  deep  red  varnish  that  defied 
water;  he  got  slips  of  bark,  white  in- 
side, cut  his  inscription  deep  on  the 
inner  side,  and  filled  the  incised  let- 
ters with  this  red  varnish.  He  had 
forty-eight  ducks  in  the  air,  and  was 
rising  before  daybreak  to  catch  anoth- 
er couple,  when  he  was  seized  with  a 
pain  in  the  right  hip  and  knee,  and 
found  he  could  hardly  walk,  so  he 
gave  in  tiiat  morning,  and  kept  about 
the  premises.  But  he  got  worse,  and 
he  had  hardly  any  use  in  his  right 
side,  from  the  waist  downwards,  and 
was  in  great  pain. 

As  the  day  wore  on,  the  pain  and 
loss  of  power  increased,  and  resisted 
all  his  remedies ;  there  was  no  fever 
to  speak  of;  but  Nature  was  grimly 
revenging  herself  for  many  a  gentler 
warning  neglected.  When  he  real- 
ized his  condition,  he  was  terribly  cut 
up,  and  sat  on  the  sand  with  his  head 
in  his  hands  for  nearly  two  hours. 
But,  after  that  period  of  despondency, 
he  got  up,  took  his  boat-hook,  and. 


162 


FOUL  PLAY. 


using  it  as  a  staff,  hol)blcil  to  his  ar- 
senal, and  set  to  work. 

Amongst  iiis  materials  was  a  young 
tree  he  hail  imlled  up;  the  roots  ran 
at  right  angk's  to  the  stem.  He  just 
saweil  off  the  ends  of  the  roots,  ami 
then  proceeded  to  shorten  the  stem. 

But  meantime  Helen,  who  had 
always  a  secret  eye  on  liim  and  his 
movements,  had  seen  there  was  some- 
thing wrong,  and  came  timidly  and 
asked  wiiat  was  the  nuitter. 

"  Nothing,"  said  he,  doggedly. 

"  Then  why  did  you  sit  so  long  on 
the  sand  ?  I  never  saw  you  like 
that." 

"  I  was  ruminating." 

"  What  upon  ?  Not  that  I  have 
any  right  to  ask." 

"  On  the  arrogance  and  folly  of 
men;  they  attempt  more  than  they 
can  do,  and  despise  the  petty  pru- 
dence and  common  sense  of  women, 
and  smart  for  it ;  as  I  am  smarting 
now  for  being  wiser  than  you." 

"0,"  said  Helen;  "why,  what  is 
the  matter?  and  what  is  that  yon 
have  made  ?  It  looks  like  —  0  dear !  " 

"  It  is  a  crutch,"  said  Hazel,  with 
forced  calmness  ;  "  and  I  am  a  crip- 
ple." 

Helen  clasped  her  hands,  and  stood 
trembling. 

Hazel  lost  his  self-control  for  a 
moment,  and  cried  out  in  a  voice  of 
agony,  "  A  useless  cripple.  I  wish  I 
■was  dead  and  out  of  the  way." 

Then,  ashamed  of  having  given 
way  before  Iter,  he  seized  his  crutch, 
placed  the  crook  under  his  arm,  and 
turned  sullenly  away  from  her. 

Four  steps  he  took  with  his  crutch. 

She  caught  him  with  two  move- 
ments of  her  supple  and  vigorous 
frame. 

She  just  laid  her  left  hand  gently 
on  his  shoulder,  and  with  her  right 
she  stole  the  crutch  softly  away,  and 
let  it  fall  upon  the  sand.  She  took 
his  right  hand,  and  jnit  it  to  her  lips 
like  a  subject  ])aying  homage  to  her 
sovereign  ;  and  then  she  put  her 
strong  arm  under  his  shoulder,  still 
holding  his  right  hand  in  hers,  and 


looked  in  his  face.  "  No  wooden 
crutches  when  I  am  by,"  said  she, 
in  a  low  voice,  full  of  devotion. 

He  stood  surprised,  and  his  eyes 
began  to  fill. 

"  Come,"  said  she,  in  a  voice  of 
music.  And,  thus  aided,  he  went 
with  her  to  her  cavern.  As  they 
went,  she  asked  him  tenderly  where 
the  pain  was. 

"  It  was  in  my  hip  and  knee,"  he 
said  :  "  but  now  it  is  nowhere ;  for 
joy  has  come  back  to  my  heart." 

"  And  to  mine  too,"  said  Helen  ; 
"except  for  this." 

The  quarrel  dispersed  like  a  cloud, 
under  this  calamity.  Tliere  was  no 
formal  reconciliation  ;  no  discussion  : 
and  this  was  the  wisest  course  :  for 
the  unhappy  situation  remained  un- 
changed ;  and  the  friendliest  discus- 
sion could  only  fan  the  embers  of  dis- 
cord and  misery  gently,  instead  of 
fiercLdy. 

The  pair  so  strangely  thrown  to- 
gether commenced  a  new  chapter  of 
their  existence.  It  was  not  patient 
and  nurse  over  again  ;  Hazel,  though 
very  lame,  had  too  much  spirit  left  to 
accept  that  position.  But  still  the 
sexes  became  in  a  measure  reversed, 
—  Helen  the  fisherman  and  forager, 
Hazel  the  cook  and  domestic. 

He  was  as  busy  as  ever,  but  in  a 
narrow  circle ;  he  found  pearl  oysters 
near  the  sunk  galleon,  and,  ere  ho 
had  been  lame  many  weeks,  he  had 
entirely  lined  the  sides  of  the  cavern 
with  mother-of-pearl  set  in  cement, 
and  close  as  mosaic. 

Every  day  he  passed  an  hour  in 
Paradise ;  for  his  living  crutch  made 
him  take  a  little  walk  with  her;  her 
hand  held  his  ;  her  arm  supi)orted  his 
shoulder;  her  sweet  face  was  near 
his,  full  of  tender  solicitude  ;  they 
seemed  to  be  one ;  and  spoke  in 
whispers  to  each  other,  like  thinking 
aloud.  The  causes  of  hap])iness  were 
ever  present ;  the  causes  of  unhap- 
pincss  were  out  of  sight,  and  showed 
no  signs  of  approach. 

And,  of  the   two,  Helen  was  the 


FOUL  PLAY. 


163 


happiest.  Before  a  creature  so  pure 
as  tliis  marries  and  has  chiMren,  the 
great  maternal  instinct  is  still  there, 
but  feeds  on  what  it  can  get,  — first  a 
doll,  and  then  some  helpless  creature 
or  other.  Too  often  she  wastes  her 
heart's  milk  on  something  arown  up, 
but  as  selfish  as  a  child.  Helen  was 
more  fortunate ;  her  child  was  her 
liero,  now  so  lame  that  he  must  lean 
on  her  to  walk.  The  days  passed  by, 
and  the  island  was  fast  becoming  the 
world  to  those  two,  and  as  bright  a 
world  as  ever  shone  on  two  mortal 
creatures. 

It  was  a  happy  dream. 

What  a  |)ity  that  dreams  dissolve 
so  soon  !  This  had  lasted  for  nearly 
two .  months,  and  Hazel  was  getting 
better,  though  still  not  well  enough, 
or  not  fool  enough,  to  dismiss  his  live 
crutch,  when  one  afternoon  Helen, 
who  had  been  up  on  the  heights, 
observed  a  dark  cloud  in  the  blue  sky 
towards  the  west.  Tkcre  was  not  an- 
other cloud  visible,  and  the  air  mar- 
vellously clear ;  time,  about  three 
quarters  of  an  hour  before  sunset. 
She  told  Hazel  about  this  solitary 
cloud,  and  asked  him,  with  some 
anxiety,  if  it  portended  anotlicr  storm. 
He  told  her  to  be  under  no  alarm,  — 
there  were  no  tempests  in  that  latitude 
except  at  the  coming  in  and  troinijj  out 
of  the  rains,  —  hut  he  should  like  to 
go  round  the  Point  and  look  at  her 
cloud. 

She  lent  him  her  arm,  and  they 
went  round  the  Point;  and  there  they 
saw  a  cloud  entirely  different  from 
anything  they  had  ever  seen  since 
they  were  on  the  island.  It  was  like 
an  enormous  dark  ribbon  stretched 
along  the  sky,  at  some  little  height 
above  the  horizon.  Notwithstanding 
its  prodigious  length  it  got  larger  be- 
fore their  very  eyes. 

Hazel  started. 

Helen  felt  him  start,  and  asked  him, 
with  some  surprise,  what  was  the 
matter. 

"  Cloud  !  "  said  he  ;  "  that  is  no 
cloud.     That  is  smoke." 


"  Smoke  !  "  echoed  Helen,  becom- 
ing as:itated  in  her  turn. 

"  Yes ;  the  bretze  is  northerly,  and 
carries  tlie  smoke  nearer  to  us ;  it  is 
the  smoke  of  a  steamboat." 


CHAPTEE  XLV. 

Both  were  greatly  moved ;  and 
after  one  swift  glance  Helen  stole  at 
him,  neither  looked  at  the  other. 
They  spoke  in  flurried  whispers. 

"  Can  they  see  the  island  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  ;  it  depends  on  how 
far  the  boat  is  to  windward  of  her 
smoke." 

"  Howshall  we  know  ?  " 

"  If  she  sees  the  island,  she  will 
make  for  it  that  moment." 

"  Why  ?  do  ships  never  pass  an  un- 
known island  1  " 

"  Yes.  But  that  steamer  will  not 
pass  us." 

"  But  why  ?  " 

At  this  question  Hazel  huns:  his 
head,  and  his  lip  quivered.  He  an- 
swered her  at  last.  "  Because  she  is 
looking  for  i/ou." 

Helen  was  struck  dumb  at  this. 

He  gave  his  reasons.  "  Steamers 
never  visit  these  waters.  Love  has 
brought  that  steamer  out ;  love  that 
will  not  go  unrewarded.  Arthur 
Wardlaw  is  on  board  that  sliip." 

"  Have  they  seen  us  yet  ?  " 

Hazel  forced  on  a  kind  of  dogged 
fortitude.  He  said,  "  When  the  smoke 
ceases  to  elongate,  you  will  know 
they  have  changed  their  course,  and 
they  will  change  their  course  the  mo- 
ment the  man  at  the  mast-head  sees 
us." 

"  Oh  !  But  how  do  j'ou  know  they 
have  a  man  at  the  mast-head  ?  " 

"  1  know  by  myself.  I  should  have 
a  man  at  the  mast-head  night  and 
day." 

And  now  the  situation  was  beyond 
words.  They  both  watched,  and 
watched,   to  see   the  line  of  smoke 


164 


FOUL  PLAY. 


It  continued  to  increase,  and  spread 
eastward  ;  sind  tliat  proved  the  steamer 
was  continuing  her  course. 

Tlie  sun  drew  close  to  the  horizon. 

"  They  don't  see  us,"  said  Helen, 
faintly. 

"  No,"  said  Hazel ;  "  not  yet." 

"And  tlie  sun  is  just  setting.  It  is 
all  over."  She  put  her  liaiidkercliief 
to  lier  eyes  a  moment,  and  then,  after 
a  sol)  or  two,  she  said  almost  clieerful- 
ly,  "  Well,  dear  friend,  we  were  happy 
till  that  smoke  came  to  disturb  us  :  let 
us  try  and  be  as  happy  now  it  is 
gone.  Don't  smile  like  that,  it  makes 
nic  shudder." 

■'  Did  I  smile  1  It  must  have  been 
at  your  sim|)liiity  in  thinking  we  have 
seen  the  last  of  that  steamer." 

"  And  so  we  have." 

"  Not  so.  In  three  hours  she  will 
be  at  anchor  in  that  bay." 

"  Why,  what  will  bring  her?  " 

"  I  shall  bring  her." 

"  You  ?     How  ?  " 

"  By  lighting  my  bonfire." 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 

Helen  had  forgotten  all  about  the 
bonfire.  She  now  a>ked  whether  he 
was  sure  those  on  board  the  steamer 
could  see  the  bonfire.  Then  Hazel 
told  her  that  it  was  now  of  prodigious 
size  and  height.  Some  six  months 
before  he  was  crippled  he  had  added 
and  added  to  it. 

"That  bonfire,"  said  he,  "will 
throw  a  rnddy  glare  over  the  heavens, 
that  they  can't  iielp  seeing  on  board 
the  steamer.  Then,  as  they  are  not 
on  a  course,  but  on  a  search,  they  will 
(■iTiainly  run  a  few  miles  southward  to 
see  wliat  it  is.  Thev  will  say  it  is 
either  a  beacon  or  a  ship  on  fire  ;  and, 
in  either  case,  tliey  will  tm-n  the  boat's 
hcail  this  way.  "  Well,  before  they 
lia\e  run  southward  half  a  dozen 
miles,  their  lookout  will  set"  the  bon- 
fire and  till-  island  in  its  liglit.  Let 
us  get  to  the  boat,  my  lucifers  are 
there."  *• 


She  lent  him  her  arm  to  the  boat, 
and  stood  by  wiiile  he  made  his  prep- 
arations. They  were  very  simple. 
He  took  a  jjinc  torch  and  smeared  it 
all  over  with  i>itch  ;  then  put  his  lu('i- 
fer-box  in  liis  bosom,  and  took  his 
crutch.  His  face  was  drawn  ])iiia- 
l)ly,  but  his  closed  lips  betrayed  unsha- 
ken and  unsiiakablc  resolution.  He 
shouldered  his  crutch,  and  hobbled 
up  as  far  as  the  cavern.  Here  Helen 
interposed. 

"  Don't  you  go  toiling  up  the  hill," 
said  she.  "  Give  me  the  lucifers  and 
the  torch,  and  let  me  light  the  beacon. 
I  shall  be  there  in  half  the  time  you 
will." 

"  Thjnk  you !  thank  you  !  "  said 
Hazel,  eagerly,  not  to  say  violently. 

He  wanted  it  done ;  but  it  killed 
him  to  do  it.  He  then  gave  her  his 
instructions. 

"  It  is  as  big  as  a  haystack,"  said 
he,  "and  as  dry  as  a  chip  ;  and  there 
are  eight  bundles  of  straw  placed  ex- 
pressly. Liglil^thc  bundles  to  wind- 
ward first,  then  the  others;  it  will 
soon  be  all  in  a  blaze." 

"Meanwhile,"  said  Helen,  "  _vou 
prepare  our  supper.  I  feel  quite  fiiint 
—  for  want  of  it." 

Hazel  assented. 

"  It  is  the  last  we  shall  —  "  he  wa.s 
going  to  say  it  was  the  last  they 
would  eat  together ;  but  his  voice 
failed  him,  and  he  hoi)bled  into  the 
cavern,  and  tried  to  smother  his  emo- 
tion in  work.  He  lighted  the  fire,  and 
blew  it  into  a  flame  with  a  palmetto- 
leaf,  and  then  he  sat  down  awhile, 
very  sick  at  heart ;  then  he  got  up  and 
did  the  cooking,  sighing  all  the  time  ; 
and,  just  when  he  was  beginning  to 
wonder  why  Helen  was  so  long  light- 
ing eight  bundles  of  straw,  she  came 
in,  looking  pale. 

"  Is  it  all  right  ?  "  said  he. 

"  Go  and  look,"  said  she.  "  No, 
let  us  have  our  su])per  first." 

Neither  had  any  appetite  :  they  sat 
and  kept  casting  strange  looks  at  one 
another. 

To  divert  this  anyhow.  Hazel  looked 
up  at  the  roof,  and  said  faintly,  "  If  I 


FOUL  PLAY. 


165 


had  known,  I  would  have  made  more 
haste,  and  set  pearl  there  as  well." 

"  What  does  that  matter  ?  "  said 
Helen,  looking  down. 

"  Not  mueh,  indeed,"  replied  he, 
sadly.  "  I  am  a  fool  to  utter  such 
childish  rej^rets  ;  and,  more  than  that, 
I  am  a  mean  selfish  cur  to  have  a  re- 
gret. Come,  come,  we  can't  eat;  let 
us  go  round  the  Point  and  see  the 
waves  reddened  by  the  beacon  that 
gives  you  hack  to  the  world  you  were 
born  to  emi)ellish." 

Helen  said  she  would  go  directly. 
And  her  languid  reply  contrasted 
strangely  with  his  excitement.  She 
played  with  her  supper,  and  wasted 
time  in  a  very  unusual  way,  until  he 
told  her  plump  she  was  not  really 
eating,  and  he  could  wait  no  longer, 
he  must  t;o  and  see  how  the  beacon 
was  burning. 

"0,  very  well,"  said  she;  and  they 
went  down  to  the  beach. 

She  took  his  crutch  and  gave  it  to 
him.  This  little  thing  cut  him  to 
the  heart.  It  was  the  first  time  she 
had  accompanied  him  so  far  as  that 
without  offering  herself  to  be  his 
crutch.  He  sitrhed  deeply,  as  he  put 
the  crutch  under  his  arm  ;  but  he 
was  too  proud  to  complain,  only  he 
laid  it  all  on  the  approaching  steam- 
boat. 

The  subtle  creature  by  his  side 
heard  the  sigh,  and  smiled  sadly  at 
being  misunderstood,  —  but  what  man 
could  understand  her  ?  They  hardly 
spoke  till  they  reached  the  Point. 
The  waves  glittered  in  the  moonlight; 
there  was  no  red  light  on  the  water. 

"  Why,  what  is  this  1  "  said  Hazel. 
"  You  can't  have  lighted  the  bonfire 
in  eiirht  places,  as  I  told  j'ou." 

She  folded  her  arms  and  stood  be- 
fore him  in  an  attitude  of  defiance  ; 
all  but  her  melting  eye. 

"  I  have  not  lighted  it  at  all,"  said 
she. 

Hazel  stood  aghast.  "  What  have  I 
done  1  "  he  cried.  "  Duty,  manhood, 
everything  demanded  that  I  should 
light  that  beacon,  and  I  trusted  it  to 
you." 


Helen's  attitude  of  defiance  melted 
away  :  she  begun  to  cower,  and  hid 
her  blushing  face  in  her  hands.  Then 
she  looked  up  implorinL'ly.  Then  she 
uttered  a  wild  and  eloquent  cry,  aud 
fled  from  him  like  the  wind. 


CHAPTER  XLVIL 

That  cloud  was  really  the  smoke 
of  the  Springbok,  which  had  mounted 
into  air  so  thin  that  it  could  rise 
no  higher.  The  boat  herself  was 
many  miles  to  the  northward,  retuin- 
ing  full  of  heavy  hearts  from  a  fruit- 
less search.  She  came  back  in  a 
higher  parallel  of  latitude,  intending 
jifterwards  to  steer  N.W.  to  Easter 
Island.  The  life  was  gone  out  of  the 
ship  ;  the  father  was  deeply  dejected, 
and  the  crew  could  no  longer  feign 
the  hope  they  did  not  feel.  Having 
pursued  the  above  course  to  within 
four  hundred  miles  of  Juan  Fernandez, 
General  Rolleston  begged  the  cajjtain 
to  make  a  bold  deviation  to  the  S.  W., 
and  then  see  if  they  could  find  noth- 
ing there  before  going  to  Easter  Isl- 
and. 

Captain  Moreland  was  very  unwill- 
ing to  go  to  the  S.W.,  the  more  so 
as  coal  was  getting  short.  However, 
he  had  not  the  heart  to  refuse  General 
Rolleston  anything.  There  was  a 
northerly  breeze.  He  had  the  fires 
put  out,  and,  covering  the  ship  with 
c;invas,  sailed  three  hundreil  miles 
S.W.  But  found  nothing.  Then  he 
took  in  sail,  got  up  steam  again,  and 
away  for  Easter  Island.  The  ship  ran 
so  fast  that  she  had  got  into  latitude 
thirty-two  by  ten  a.  m.  next  morning. 

At  lOh.  15m.  the  dreary  monotony 
of  this  cruise  was  broken  by  the  man 
at  the  mMst-head. 

"On  deck  there  !  " 

"  Hullo  !  " 

"  The  schooner  on  our  weather- 
bow  ! " 

"  Well,  what  of  her  ■?  " 

"  She  has  luffed." 

"  Well,  what  o'  that  ?  " 


1G6 


FOUL  PLAY. 


"  She  has  altered  her  course." 

"  How  m.iny  points?  " 

"  She  was  sailing  S.  E.,  and  now 
her  head  is  N.  E." 

"  That  is  curious." 

General  Kolleston,  who  had  come 
and  listened  with  a  grain  of  hope, 
now  sighed,  and  turned  away. 

The  captain  explained  kindly  that 
the  man  was  quite  right  to  draw  his 
captain's  attention  to  tiic  fact  of  a 
trading-vessel  altering  her  course. 
"  There  is  a  sea-grammar,  General," 
said  he  ;  "  and,  when  one  seaman  sees 
another  violate  it,  he  concludes  there 
is  some  reason  or  other.  Now,  Jack, 
what  d'  ye  make  of  her  ?  " 

"  I  can't  make  much  of  her  ;  she 
don't  seem  to  know  her  own  mind, 
that  is  all.  At  ten  o'clock  she  was 
bound  for  Valparaiso  or  the  Island. 
But  now  she  has  come  about  and 
beating  to  windward." 

"  Bound  for  Easter  Island  ?  " 

"  I  dunno." 

"  Keep  your  eye  on  her." 

"  Ay,  ay,  sir." 

Cap'tairi  Moreland  told  General 
Kolleston  that  very  few  ships  went  to 
Easter  Island,  which  lies  in  a  lovely 
climate,  but  is  a  miserable  place;  and 
he  was  telling  the  General  that  it  is 
inhabited  by  savages  of  a  low  order, 
who  half  worship  the  relics  of  mason- 
ry left  by  their  more  civilized  prede- 
cessors, when  Jack  hailed  the  deck 
again. 

"  Well,"  said  the  captain. 

"  I  tliink  she  is  bound  for  the 
Springbok." 

The  soldier  received  this  conjecture 
with  astonishment  and  incredulity, 
not  to  be  wondered  at.  The  steam- 
boat headed  N.  W.,  right  in  the  wind's 
eye.  Sixteen  miles  off,  at  least,  a 
ship  was  sailing  N.  E.  So  that  the 
two  courses  might  be  represented 
thus: — 


And  there  hung  in  the  air,  like  a  black 
mark  against  the  blue  sky,  a  fellow, 
whone  oracular  voice  came  down  and 
said  B  was  endeavoring  to  intercept  A. 

Nevertheless,  time  confirmed  the 
conjecture  ;  the  schooner,  having  made 
a  short  board  to  the  N.  E.,  came  about, 
and  made  a  long  board  due  west, 
which  was  as  near  as  she  could  lie  to 
the  wind.  On  this  Captain  Moreland 
laid  the  steamboat's  head  due  north. 
This  brought  the  vessels  rapidly  to- 
gether. 

When  they  were  about  two  miles 
distant,  the  stranger  slackened  sail 
and  hove  to,  hoisting  stars  and  stripes 
at  her  mizzcn.  The  union  jack  went 
up  the  shrouds  of  the  Springbok  di- 
rectly, and  she  pursued  her  course, 
but  gradually  slackened  her  steam. 

General  liolleston  walked  the  deck 
in  great  agitation,  and  now  indulged 
in  wild  hopes,  which  Captain  JMore- 
land  thought  it  best  to  discourage  at 
once. 

"  Ah,  sir,"  he  said  ;  "  don't  you 
run  into  the  other  extreme,  and  im- 
agine he  has  come  on  our  business. 
It  is  at  sea  as  it  is  ashore  :  if  a  man 
goes  out  of  his  course  to  speak  to  you, 
it  is  for  his  own  sake,  not  yours.  This 
Yankee  has  got  men  sick  with  scurvy, 
and  is  come  for  lime-juice.  Or  his 
water  is  out.  Or — hallo,  savages 
aboard." 

It  was  too  true.  The  schooner  had 
a  cargo  of  savages,  male  and  female ; 
the  males  were  nearly  naked,  but  the 
females,  strange  to  say,  were  dressed 
to  the  throat  in  ample  rot)es,  with 
broad  and  flowing  skirts,  and  had  lit- 
tle coronets  on  their  heads.  As  soon 
as  the  schooner  hove  to,  the  fiddle  had 
struck  up,  and  the  savages  were  now 
dancing  in  parties  of  four;  the  men 
doing  a  sort  of  monkey  hornpipe  in 
quick  pace,  with  their  hands  tiearly 
touching  the  ground  ;  the  women,  on 
the  contrary,  erect  and  queenly,  swept 
about  in  slow  rhythm,  with  most 
graceful  and  coquettish  movements 
of  the  arms  and  hands,  and  bewitch- 
ing smiles. 

The  steamboat  came  alongside,  but 


FOUL  PLAY. 


167 


at  a  certain  distance,  to  avoid  all 
cliance  of  collision  ;  and  the  crew 
clustered  at  the  side  and  cheered  the 
savages  dancing.  The  poor  General 
was  forgotten  at  the  merry  sight. 

Presently  a  negro  in  white  cotton, 
with  a  face  blacker  than  the  savages, 
stepped  forward  and  hoisted  a  board, 
on  which  was  printed  very  large, 
Are  you 

Having  allowed  this  a  moment  to 
sink  into  the  mind,  he  reversed  the 
board,  and  showed  these  words, 
also  printed  large,  The  Spring- 
bok 1 

There  was  a  thrilling  murmur  on 
board ;  and,  after  a  pause  of  sur- 
prise, the  OjUestion  was  answered  by 
a  loud  cheer  and  waving  of  hats. 

The  reply  was  perfectly  under- 
stood ;  almost  immediately  a  boat 
was  lowered  by  some  novel  machin- 
erj',  and  pulled  towards  the  steamer. 
There  were  two  men  in  it :  the  skip- 
per and  the  negro.  The  skipper 
came  up  the  side  of  the  Springbok. 
He  was  loosely  dressed  in  some  light 
drab-colored  stutF  and  a  huge  straw 
hat ;  a  man  with  a  long  Puritanical 
head,  a  nose  inclined  to  be  aquiline,  a 
face  bronzed  by  weather  and  heat, 
thin,  resolute  lips,  and  a  square  chin. 
But  for  a  certain  breadth  between 
his  keen  gray  eyes,  which  revealed 
more  intellect  than  Cromwell's  Iron- 
sides were  encumbered  with,  he 
might  have  passed  for  one  of  that 
hard-praying,  harder-hitting  frater- 
nity. 

fie  came  on  deck,  just  touched  his 
hat,  as  if  to  brush  away  a  fly,  and, 
removing  an  enormous  cigar  from 
his  mouth,  said,  "  Wal,  and  so  this 
is  the  Springbok.  Spry  little  boat 
she  is  ;  how  many  knots  can  ye  get 
out  of  her  now?  Not  that  1  am 
CHrious." 

"  About  twelve  knots." 

"  And  when  the  steam 's  off  the 
bile,  how  many  can  you  sail  f  Not 
that  it  is  my  business." 

"  Eight  or  nine.  What  is  your 
business  1" 

"  Hum !      You    have    been    over 


some    water    looking    for    that    gal. 
Where  do  ye  hail  from  last?" 

"  The  Society  Islands.  Did  you 
board  me  to  hear  me  my  cate- 
chism 1  " 

"  No,  I  am  not  one  of  your  pry- 
ing sort.  Where  are  ye  bound  for 
now  1  " 

"  I  am  bound  for  Easter  Island." 

"  Have  you  heard  anything  of  the 
gal  1 " 

"  No." 

"  And  when  do  ye  expec'  to  go 
back  to  England  as  wise  as  ye 
came  ? " 

"  Never  while  the  ship  can  swim," 
cried  Moreland,  angrily,  to  hide  his 
despondency  from  this  stranger. 
"  And  now  it  is  my  turn,  I  think. 
What  schooner  is  this  ?  by  whom 
commanded,  and  whither  bound  ?  " 

"  The  Julia  Dodd  ;  Joshua  Fulla- 
love ;  bound  for  Juan  Fernandez 
with  the  raw  material  of  civilization 
—  look  at  the  varmint  skippin'  — 
and  a  printing-press;  an' that 's  the 
instrument  of  civilization,  I  ratther 
think." 

"  Well,  sir  ;  and  why  in  Heaven's 
name  did  yon  ciiange  your  course  ?  " 

"  Wal,  I  reckon  I  changed  it  —  to 
tell  you  a  lie." 

"To  tell  us  a  lie?" 

"Ay;  the  darnedest  etamal  lie 
that  ever  came  out  of  a  man's  mouth. 
Fust,  there 's  an  unknown  island 
somewheres  about.  That 's  a  kinder 
flourish  beforehand.  On  that  island 
there  's  an  English  gal  wrecked." 

Exclamations  burst  forth  on  every 
side  at  this. 

"  And  she  is  so  tarnation  'cute,  she 
is  flying  ducks  all  over  creation  with 
a  writing  tied  to  their  legs,  telling 
the  tale,  and  setting  down  the  lon- 
gitude. There,  if  that  isn't  a  buster, 
I  hope  I  may  never  live  to  tell  an- 
other." 

"  God  bless  you,  sir,"  cried  the 
Genersil.     "  Where  is  the  island  ?  " 

"  What  island  ?  " 

"  The  island  where  my  child  is 
wrecked." 

"  What,  are  you  the  gal's  father  1 " 


168 


FOUL   PLAY, 


said  Joshua,  with  a  sudden  touch  of 
feeling. 

"  I  am,  sir.  Pray  withhold  noth- 
ing from  me  you  know." 

"  Why,  Cuniilc,"  said  the  Yankee, 
soothingly;  "don't  I  tell  von  it 's  a 
buster?  However,  the  lie  is  none  o' 
mine.  It 's  that  old  cuss  Skinflint 
set  it  afloat ;  he  is  always  pisoning 
these  peaceful  waters." 

Kolleston  asked  eagerly  who  Skin- 
flint was,  and  where  he  could  be 
found. 

"  Wal,  he  is  a  sorter  sea  Jaek-of- 
all-trades,  etarnally  cruising  about  to 
buy  gratis,  —  those  he  buys  of  call  it 
stealing.  Got  a  rotten  old  cutter, 
manned  by  his  wife  and  f  imiiy.  They 
get  coal  out  of  me  for  fur,  and  sell 
the  coal  at  double  my  price  ;  they  kill 
seals  and  dress  the  skins  aboard  ;  kill 
fish  and  salt  'em  aboard.  Y"e  know 
when  that  fam'ly  is  at  sea  by  the 
smell  that  pervades  the  briny  deep 
an'  heralds  their  approach.  Yester- 
day the  air  smelt  awful  :  so  I  said  to 
Vespasian  here,  '  I  think  that  sea- 
skuiik  is  out,  for  there's  something  a 
pi-^oning  the  cerulean  waves  an'  sue-  I 
cun.ambient  air.'  We  hadn't  sailed 
not  fifty  miles  more  before  we  run 
agin  him.  T/ieir  clothes  were  dryhuf 
all  aliotif  the  rir/f/iiifj.  Hails  me,  the 
varmint  does.  Vesp  and  I,  we  work 
the  printing-press  together,  an'  so  or- 
der him  to  looward,  not  to  taint  om- 
Otaheitans,  that  stink  of  ile  at  home, 
but  I  had  'em  biled  before  I  'd  buy 
'em,  an'  now  they  're  vilets.  '  Wal 
now,  Skinflint,'  says  I ;  'I  reckon 
you  're  come  to  bring  me  that  har- 
poon o'  mine  you  stole  last  time  you 
was  at  my  island  ? '  'I  never  saw 
your  harpoon,'  says  he,  '  I  want  to 
know  have  you  come  across  the 
Sin-ingbok?'  'Moblic  I  have,' says 
I ;  '  why  do  you  ask  1  '  '  (iot  news 
i'or  her,'  says  he;  'and  can't  find  her 
nowheres.'  So  then  we  set  to  and 
fenced  a  bit ;  and  this  old  varmint, 
to  put  me  off"  the  truth,  told  me  the 
buster.  A  month  ago  or  more  lie 
was  boarded  —  by  a  duck.  And  this 
yar  duck  had  a  writing  tied  to  his 


leg,  and  this  yar  writing  said  an  Eng- 
lish gal  was  wrecked  on  an  island, 
and  put  down  the  very  longitude. 
'  Show  me  that  duck,'  says  I,  iron- 
ical. '  D'  ye  take  ns  for  fools  ? '  says 
he ;  '  we  ate  the  duck  for  supper.' 
'  That  was  like  ye,'  says  I ;  'if  an 
angel  brought  your  pardon  down 
from  heights  celestial,  you  'd  roast 
him,  and  sell  his  feathers  for  swan's- 
down  ;  mebbe  ye  ate  the  writing  ?  I 
know  y'  are  a  hungry  lot.'  '  The 
writing  is  in  my  cabin,'  says  he. 
'Show  it  me,'  says  I,  'an'  mebbo 
I '11  believe  ye.'  No,  the  cuss  would 
only  show  it  to  the  Springbok  ; 
'  There  's  a  reward,'  says  he.  '  What 's 
the  price  of  a  soul  aboard  your  cut- 
ter ? '  I  asked  him.  '  Have  you  part- 
ed with  yours,  as  you  want  to  buy 
one  ? '  says  he.  '  Not  one  as  would 
carry  me  right  slick  away  to  ever- 
lasting blazes,'  says  I.  So  then  we 
said  good  morning,  and  he  bore  away 
for  Valparaiso.  Presently  I  saw 
your  smoke,  and  that  you  would  nev- 
er overhaul  old  Stinkamalee  on  that 
track  ;  so  I  came  about.  Now  I  tell 
ye  that  old  cuss  knows  where  the  gal 
is,  and  mebbe  got  her  tied  hand  and 
fut  in  his  cabin.  An'  1  'm  kinder  sot 
on  English  gals ;  they  put  me  in 
mind  of  butter  and  honey.  Why, 
my  schooner  is  named  after  one.  So 
now,  Cunnle,  clap  on  steam  for  Val- 
paraiso, and  you  '11  soon  overhaul  the 
old  stink-pot :  you  may  know  him  by 
the  brown  patch  in  his  jib-sail,  the 
ontidy  varmint.  Pull  out  your  purse 
anil  bind  him  to  drop  lying  about 
ducks  and  geese,  and  tell  you  the 
truth  ;  be  knows  where  your  gal  is,  I 
swan.  Wal,  3'e  need  n't  smother 
me."  For  by  this  time  he  was  the 
centre  of  a  throng,  all  pushing  and 
driving  to  catch  tiis  words. 

Captain  Morcland  begged  him  to 
step  down  into  his  cabin,  and  there 
the  General  thanked  him  with  great 
warmth  and  agitation  for  his  human- 
ity. "  We  will  follow  your  advice  at 
once,"  he  said.  "  Is  there  anything 
I  can  offer  you,  without  offence  ?  " 

"  Wal,"  'drawled  the   Y'ankee,  "  I 


FOUL  PLAY. 


169 


guess  not.  Business  an'  sentiment 
won't  mix  nohow.  Business  took 
me  to  the  island,  sentiment  brouglit 
me  here.  I  '11  take  a  shake-liand  all 
round  :  and  if  y'  have  got  live  fowls 
to  spare,  I  '11  be  obliged  to  you  for  a 
couple.  Ye  see  I  'm  colonizing  that 
darned  island :  an'  sowing  in  with 
grain,  an'  Otahcitans,  an'  niggers,  an' 
irishmen,  an'  all  the  cream  o'  crea- 
tion ;  an'  I  'd  be  glad  of  a  couple  o' 
Dorkins  to  crow  the  lazy  varmint 
up." 

This  very  moderate  request  was 
heartily  complied  with,  and  the  accla- 
mation and  cheers  of  the  crew  followed 
this  strange  character  to  his  schooner, 
at  which  his  eye  glistened  and  twinkled 
with  quiet  satisfaction,  but  he  made  it 
a  point  of  honor  not  to  move  a  muscle. 

Before  he  could  get  under  way,  the 
Springbok  took  a  circuit,  and,  passing 
within  a  hundred  yards  of  him,  lired 
a  gun  to  leeward  by  way  of  compli- 
ment, set  a  cloud  of  canvas,  and  tore 
through  the  water  at  her  highest 
speed.  Outside  the  port  of  Valparaiso 
she  fell  in  with  Skinfiint,  and  found 
him  not  quite  so  black  as  he  was 
painted.  The  old  fellow  showed  some 
parental  feeling,  j^roduced  the  bag  at 
once  to  General  Rolleston,  and  assured 
him "  a  wearied  duck  had  come  on 
board,  and  his  wife  had  detached  the 
writing. 

They  took  in  coal :  and  then  ran 
westward  once  more,  every  heart 
beating  high  with  confident  hope. 


CHAPTER  XL VIII. 

Helen's  act  was  strange,  and  de- 
mands a  word  of  explanation.  If  she 
had  thought  the  steamboat  was  a 
strange  vessel,  she  would  have  lighted 
the  bonfire  :  if  she  had  known  her 
father  was  on  board,  she  would  have 
lighted  it  with  joy.  But  Hazel,  whose 
every  word  now  was  gospel,  had  said 
it  was  Arthur  Wardlaw  in  that  boat, 
searching  for  her. 

Still,  so  strong  is  the  impulse  in  all 


civilized  beings  to  get  back  to  civiliza- 
tion, that  she  went  up  that  hill  as 
honestly  intending  to  light  the  bonfire 
as  Hazel  intended  it  to  be  lighted. 
But,  as  she  went,  her  courage  cooled, 
and  her  feet  began  to  go  slowly,  as 
her  mind  ran  swiftly  forward  to  con- 
sequence upon  consequence.  To  light 
that  bonfire  was  to  bring  Artiiur 
Wardlaw  down  upon  herself  and  Ha- 
zel living  alone  anil  on  intimate  terms. 
Arthur  would  come  and  claim  her 
to  his  face.  Could  she  disallow  his 
claim  ■?  Gratitude  would  now  be  on 
his  side  as  well  as  good  faith. 
What  a  shock  to  Arthur !  What 
torture  for  Hazel !  torture  that  he 
foresaw,  or  why  the  face  of  anguish, 
that  dragged  even  now  at  her  heart- 
strings ?  And  then  it  could  end  only 
in  one  way ;  she  and  Hazel  would 
leave  the  island  in  Artiiur's  ship. 
What  a  voyage  for  all  three !  She 
stood  transfixed  by  shame  ;  her  whole 
body  blushed  at  what  she  saw  coming. 
Then  once  more  Hazel's  face  rose 
before  her  ;  poor  crippled  Hazel !  her 
hero  and  her  patient.  She  sat  down 
and  sighed,  and  could  no  more  light 
the  fire  than  she  could  have  put  it  out 
if  another  had  lighted  it. 

She  was  a  girl  tliat  could  show  you 
at  times  she  had  a  father  as  well  as  a 
mother :  but  that  evening  she  was  all 
woman. 

They  met  no  more  that  night. 

In  the  morning  his  face  was  hag- 
gard, and  showed  a  mental  struggle  ; 
but  hers  placid  and  quietly  beaming, 
for  the  very  reason  that  she  had  made 
a  great  sacrifice.  She  was  one  of  that 
sort. 

And  this  difference  between  them 
was  a  foretaste. 

His  tender  conscience  pricked  him 
sore.  To  see  her  sit  beaming  there, 
when,  if  he  had  done  his  own  duty 
with  his  own  hands  she  would  be  on 
her  way  to  England  !  Yet  his  remorse 
was  dumb ;  for,  if  he  gave  it  vent, 
then  he  must  seem  ungrateful  to  Iter 
for  her  sacrifice. 

She  saw  his  deep  and  silent  com- 
punction, approved   it  secretly;  said 


170 


FOUL  PLAY. 


nothin<!:,  but  smiled,  and  beamed,  and 
soothed,  lie  could  not  resist  tliis  : 
and  wild  tliriils  of  joy  and  hope  passed 
through  him,  visions  of  unbroken  bliss 
far  from  the  world. 

But  this  sweet  delirium  was  fol- 
lowed by  misgivings  of  another  kind. 
And  here  she  was  at  fault.  What 
could  they  be  ? 

It  was  the  voice  of  conscience  tell- 
ing him  tbat  be  was  really  winning 
ber  love,  once  inaccessible ;  and,  if  so, 
was  bound  to  tell  her  his  whole  story, 
and  let  ber  judge  between  him  and  the 
world,  before  slie  made  any  more  sacri- 
fices for  liim.  But  it  is  hard  to  stop 
great  happiness  :  harder  to  stop  it  and 
ruin  it.  Every  night,  as  he  lay  alone, 
he  said,  "  To-morrow  I  will  tell  her 
all,  and  make  ber  the  judge."  But 
in  the  morning  ber  bright  face  crushed 
bis  jnirpose  by  the  fear  of  clouding  it. 
His  limbs  got  strong  and  his  heart  got 
weak :  and  they  used  to  take  walks, 
and  ber  bead  came  near  bis  shoulder  : 
and  the  path  of  duty  began  to  be  set 
tliickcr  tlian  ever  witli  thorns  ;  and  the 
path  of  love  with  primroses.  One  day 
she  made  him  sit  to  her  for  bis  por- 
trait ;  and,  under  cover  of  artistic  en- 
thusiasm, told  him  his  beard  was  god- 
like, and  nothing  in  the  world  could 
equal  it  for  beauty.  She  never  saw 
but  one  at  all  like  it,  poor  Mr.  Sea- 
ton's  ;  but  even  that  Avas  verj'  inferior 
to  bis  :  and  then  she  dismissed  the 
sitter  :  "  Poor  thing,"  said  she,  "  you 
are  pale  and  tired."  And  she  began 
to  use  ornaments :  took  her  bracelets 
ont  of  ber  bag,  and  picked  pearls  out 
of  her  walls,  and  made  a  coronet,  un- 
der whicli  ber  eyes  flashed  at  niglit 
with  superlative  beauty,  —  conscious 
beauty  l)riglitened  by  tlie  sense  of 
being  admired  and  looked  at  by  the 
eye  slie  desired  to  please. 

She  revered  him.  He  liad  improved 
her  character,  and  she  knew  it,  and 
often  fold  him  so.  "  Call  me  Haze- 
lia,"  she  said;  "make  me  liker  you, 
still." 

One  day,  be  came  suddenly  through 
the  jungle,  and  found  her  reading  her 
prayer-booL 


He  took  it  from  her,  not  meaning 
to  be  rude,  neither,  but  inquisitive. 

It  was  open  at  the  marriage-service, 
and  her  clieeks  were  dyed  scarlet. 

His  heart  j)anted.  He  was  a  clergy- 
man ;  he  could  read  that  service  over 
them  both. 

Would  it  be  a  marriage  1 

Not  in  England  :  but  in  some  coun- 
tries it  would.  Why  not  in  this  ? 
This  was  not  England. 

He  looked  up.  Her  head  was 
averted  ;  she  was  downright  distressed. 

He  was  sorry  to  have  made  her 
blush  :  so  he  took  her  hand  and  kissed 
it  tenderly,  so  tenderly  that  his  heart 
seemed  to  go  into  his  lips.  She  thrilled 
under  it,  and  her  white  brow  sank 
upon  his  shoulder. 

The  sky  Mas  a  vault  of  purple  with 
a  flaming  topaz  in  the  centre  ;  the  sea, 
a  heavenly  blue  ;  the  warm  air  breathed 
heavenly  odors  ;  flaming  macaws 
wheeled  overhead  ;  humming-birds, 
more  gorgeous  than  any  flower, 
buzzed  round  their  heads,  and  amazed 
the  eye  with  delight,  then  cooled  it 
with  the  deep  green  of  the  jungle  into 
whicli  they  dived. 

It  was  a  Paradise  with  the  sun 
smiling  down  on  it,  and  the  ocean 
smiling  up,  and  the  air  impregnated 
with  love.  Here  they  were  both  con- 
tent now  to  spend  the  rest  of  their 
days  — 
"  The  world  forgetting  ;  by  the  world  forgot." 


CHAPTER   XLIX. 

The  Springbok  arrived  in  due 
course  at  longitude  103  deg.  .31  min., 
but  saw  no  island.  Tliis  was  dis- 
])iriting ;  but  still  Captain  Moreland 
did  not  despair. 

He  asked  General  Eolleston  to  ex- 
amine the  writing  carefully,  and  tell 
him  was  that  Miss  Rolleston's  hand- 
writing. 

The  General  shook  his  bead  sor- 
rowfully. 

"  No,"  said  he  ;  "  it  is  nothing  like 
my  child's  hand." 


FOUL  PLAY. 


171 


""Wliv,  all  the  better,"  said  Cap- 
tain Moreland ;  "  the  lady  has  got 
somebody  about  her  who  knows  a 
thing  or  two.  The  man  that  could 
catch  wild  ducks  and  turn  'em  into 
postmen  could  hit  on  the  longitude 
somehow  ;  and  he  does  n't  pretend  to 
be  exact  in  the  latitude." 

Upon  this  he  ran  northward  400 
miles ;  which  took  him  three  days ; 
for  they  stopped  at  night. 

No  island. 

He  then  ran  south  500  miles ;  stop- 
ping at  night. 

No  island. 

Then  he  took  the  vessel  zigzag. 

Just  before  sunset,  one  lovely  day, 
the  man  at  tlie  mast-head  sang  out :  — 

"  On  deck  there !  " 

«  Hullo ! " 

"  Something  in  sight ;  on  our 
weather-bow." 

"  What  is  it  1  " 

"  Looks  like  a  mast.  No.  Don't 
know  what  it  is." 

"  Point." 

The  sailor  pointed  with  his  finger. 

Captain  Moreland  ordered  the  ship's 
course  to  be  altered  accordingly.  By 
this  time  General  Rolleston  was  on 
deck.  The  ship  ran  two  miles  on  the 
new  course ;  and  all  this  time  the 
topman's  glass  was  levelled,  and  the 
crew  climbed  about  the  rigging  all 
eyes  and  ears. 

At  last  the  clear  hail  came  down. 

"  I  can  make  it  out  now,  sir." 

"What  is  it?" 

"  It  is  a  palm-tree." 

The  captain  jumped  on  a  gun,  and 
waved  his  hat  grandly,  and  instantly 
the  vessel*  rang  with  a  lusty  cheer ; 
and,  for  once,  sailors  gabbled  like 
washerwomen. 

They  ran  till  they  saw  the  island 
in  the  moonlight,  and  the  giant  Palm, 
black,  and  sculptured  out  of  the  violet 
sky  ;  then  they  set  the  lead  going, 
and  it  warned  them  not  to  come  too 
close.  They  anchored  off  the  west 
coast. 

At  daybreak  they  moved  slowly  on, 
still   sounding   as    they   went ;    and, 


rounding  the  West  Point,  General 
Rolleston  saw  written  on  the  guanoed 
rocks  in  large  letters  :  — 

AN    ENGLISH    LADY  WRECKED  HERE. 
HASTE    TO    HER    RESCUE. 

He  and  Moreland  shook  hands ; 
and  how  their  eyes  glistened  ! 

Presently  there  was  a  stranger  in- 
scription still  upon  the  rocks,  —  a 
rough  outline  of  the  island  on  an 
enormous  scale,  showing  the  coast- 
line, the  reefs,  the  shallow  water,  and 
the  deep  water. 

"  Ease  her !     Stop  her  !  " 

The  captain  studied  this  original 
chart  with  his  glass,  and  crept  slowly 
on  for  the  west  passage. 

But,  warned  by  the  soundings 
marked  on  the  rock,  he  did  not  at- 
tempt to  go  through  the  passage,  but 
came  to  an  anchor,  and  lowered  his 
boat. 

The  sailors  were  all  on  the  qui  vive 
to  land,  but  the  captain,  to  their  infi- 
nite surprise,  told  them  only  three 
persons  would  land  that  morning,  — 
himself,  his  son,  and  General  Rolles- 
ton. 

The  fact  is,  this  honest  captain  had 
got  a  misgiving,  founded  on  a  general 
view  of  human  nature.  He  expected 
to  find  the  girl  with  two  or  three  sail- 
ors, one  of  them  united  to  her  by 
some  nautical  ceremony,  duly  wit- 
nessed, but  such  as  a  military  officer 
of  distinction  could  hardly  be  expected 
to  a]iprove.  He  got  into  the  boat  in 
a  curious  state  of  delight,  dashed  with 
uncomfortable  suspense ;  and  they 
rowed  gently  for  the  west  passage. 

As  for  General  Rolleston,  now  it 
was  he  needed  all  his  fortitude.  Sup- 
pose the  lady  was  not  Helen  !  After 
all,  the  chances  were  against  her  being 
there.  Suppose  she  was  dead  and 
buried  in  that  island  !  Suppose  that 
fatal  disease,  with  whicli  she  had 
sailed,  had  been  accelerated  by  hard- 
ships, and  Providence  permitted  him 
only  to  receive  her  last  sigh.  All 
these  misgivings  crowded  on  him  the 
moment  he  drew  so  near  the  object 
which  had  looked  all  brightness   so 


172 


FOUL  PLAY. 


long  as  it  wns  unattainable.  lie  sat 
jiale  and  brave,  in  tiic  boat;  but  his 
doulits  and  It-ars  were  greater  tlian 
his  hope. 

They  rounded  Telegraph  Point, 
and  in  a  uioineiit  Paiadise  Ba_y  burst 
on  them,  and  Hazel's  boat  witliin  a 
hundred  yards  of  them.  It  was  half- 
tide.  They  beacheil  the  boat,  and 
General  Rolleston  landed.  Cajjtain 
Moreland  ftras[)ed  his  hand,  and  said, 
"Call  us  if  it  is  all  right." 

General  Rolleston  returned  the 
pressure  of  that  lionest  hand,  and 
marched  up  the  beach  just  as  if  he 
was  going  into  action. 

He  came  to  the  boat.  It  had  an 
awning  over  the  stern,  and  was  clearly 
used  as  a  sleeping-place.  A  series  of 
wooden  pipes  standing  on  uprights 
led  from  this  up  to  the  clitf.  The 
pipes  were  in  fact  mere  sections  of  the 
sago-tree  with  the  soft  pith  driven 
out.  As  this  was  manifestly  a  tube 
of  communication,  General  Rolleston 
followed  it  until  he  came  to  a  sort  of 
veranda  with  a  cave  opening  on  it ; 
he  entered  the  cave,  and  was  dazzled 
by  its  most  unexpected  beauty.  He 
seemed  to  be  in  a  gigantic  nautilus. 
Roof  and  sides,  and  the  veiy  chimney, 
were  one  blaze  of  mother-of-pearl. 
But,  after  the  first  start,  brighter  to 
him  was  an  old  shawl  he  saw  on  a 
nail ;  for  that  showed  it  was  a  wo- 
man's abode.  He  tore  down  the  old 
shawl,  and  carried  it  to  the  light.  He 
recognized  it  as  Helen's.  Her  rugs 
were  in  a  corner ;  he  rushed  in,  and 
felt  them  all  over  with  trembling 
hands.  They  were  still  warm,  though 
she  had  left  her  bod  some  time.  He 
came  out  wild  with  joy,  and  shouted 
to  ^loreland,  "She  is  alive!  She  is 
alive  !  She  is  alive  !  "  Tiien  fell  on 
his  knees  and  thanked  God. 

A  cry  came  down  to  him  from 
above:  he  looked  up  as  he  knelt,  and 
there  was  a  female  figure  dressed  in 
white,  stretching  out  its  hands  as  if  it 
would  Hy  down  to  him.  Its  eyes 
gleamed  ;  he  knew  them  all  that  way 
oflF.  He  stretciied  out  liis  hands  as 
eloquently,  and    then   he   got  up   to 


meet  her  ;  hut  the  stout  soldier's  limbs 
were  stitl'er  than  of  old  ;  and  he  got 
up  so  slowly,  that,  ere  he  could  take 
a  step,  theix!  came  flying  to  hin>,  with 
little  screams  and  inariiculate  cries, 
no  living  skeleton,  nor  consumptive 
young  laily,  but  a  grand  creature, 
tanned  here  and  there,  rosy  as  the 
morn,  and  full  of  lu-ty  vigor  ;  a  body 
all  health,  stiength,  and  beauty,  a 
soul  all  love.  She  flung  herself  all 
over  him,  in  a  moment,  with  cries  of 
love  unspeakable  ;  and  then  it  was, 
"O  my  darling,  my  darling!  O  my 
own,  own  !  Ha,  ha,  ha,  ha!  0,0, 
O,  O!  Is  it  you?  is  it?  can  it? 
Papa!  Papa!"  then  little  convulsive 
hands  patting  him,  and  feelinir  his 
beard  and  shoulders;  then  a  sudden 
hail  of  violent  kisses  on  his  head,  his 
eyes,  his  arms,  his  hands,  his  knees. 
Then  a  stout  soldier,  broken  down  by 
this,  and  sobbing  for  joy.  "  O  my 
child  !  My  flesh  and  blood  !  O,  O, 
O  !  "  Then  all  manhood  melted  away 
except  paternity  ;  and  a  father  turned 
motlier,  and  clinging,  kissing,  and 
rocking  to  and  fro  with  his  child,  and 
both  crying  for  joy  as  if  tlieir  hearts 
would  burst. 

A  sight  for  angels  to  look  down  at 
and  rejoice. 

But  what  mortal  pen  could  paint 
it? 


CHAPTER  L. 

TnEY  gave  a  long  time  to  pure  joy 
before  cither  of  them  cared  to  put 
questions  or  compare  notes.  But  at 
hist  he  asked  her,  "  Who  was  on  the 
island  besides  her  ?  " 

"  O,"  said  she,  "only  my  guardian 
angel.  Poor  Mr.  Welch  died  the  first 
week  we  were  here." 

Ho  jiarted  the  hair  on  her  brow,  and 
kissed  it  tenderly.  "  And  who  is  your 
guardian  angel  ?  " 

"  Why,  you  are  now,  my  own  papa : 
and  well  you  have  proved  it.  To 
think  of  vour  being  the  one  to  come, 
at  your  age  !  " 

"  Well,  never  mind  me.     W^ho  has 


FOUL  PLAY. 


173 


taken  such  care  of  my  child  ?  —  this 
the  sick  girl  they  frightened  me 
about ! " 

"  Indeed,  papa,  I  teas  a  dying  girl. 
My  very  hand  was  wasted.  Look  at 
it  now ;  brown  as  a  berry,  but  so 
plump;  you  owe  that  to  him:  and, 
papa,  I  can  walk  twenty  miles  with- 
out fatigue :  and  so  strong  ;  I  could 
t;ike  you  up  in  my  arms  and  carry,  I 
know.  But  I  am  content  to  eat  you." 
(A  shower  of  kisses,)  '"  I  hope  you 
will  like  him." 

"  My  own  Helen.  Ah  !  I  am  a  hap- 
py old  man  this  day.  What  is  his 
name  ?  " 

"Mr.  Hazel.  He  is  a  clergyman. 
O  papj,  I  hope  you  icill  like  him,  for 
he  has  saved  my  life  more  than  once  : 
and  then  he  has  been  so  generous,  so 
delicate,  so  patient ;  for  I  used  him 
very  ill  at  first ;  and  you  will  find  my 
character  as  much  improved  as  my 
health :  and  all  owing  to  Mr.  Hazel. 
He  is  a  cleigyman  ;  and  O,  so  good, 
so  humble,  so  clever,  so  self-denying  ! 
Ah  !  how  can  I  ever  repay  Iiim  7  " 

"Well,  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  this 
paragon,  and  shake  him  by  the  hand. 
You  may  imagine  what  I  feel  to  any 
one  that  is  kind  to  my  darling.  An 
old  gentleman  1  about  my  age  ?  " 

"  O  no,  papa." 

" Hum ! " 

"  If  he  had  been  old  I  should  not  be 
here  ;  for  he  has  had  to  fight  for  me 
against  cruel  men  with  knives  :  and 
work  like  a  horse.  He  built  me  a 
hut,  and  made  me  this  cave,  and  al- 
most killed  himself  in  my  service. 
Poor  Mr.  Hazel !  " 

"  How  old  is  he  ? " 

"  Dearest  papa,  I  never  asked  him 
that :  but  I  think  he  is  four  or  five 
years  older  than  me,  and  a  hundred 
years  better  than  I  shall  ever  be,  I  am 
afraid.  What  is  the  matter,  dar- 
ling?" 

"  Nothing,  child,  nothing." 

"  Don't  tell  me.  Can't  I  read  your 
dear  face  ?  " 

"  Come,  let  me  read  yours.  Look 
me  in  the  faee,  now  :  full." 

He  took  her  by  the  shoulders,  firm- 


ly, but  not  the  least  roughly,  and 
looked  straight  into  her  hazel  eyes. 
She  blushed  at  this  ordeal,  —  blushed 
scarlet ;  but  her  eyes,  pure  as  Heaven, 
faced  his  fairly,  though  with  a  puz- 
zled look. 

He  concluded  this  paternal  inspec- 
tion by  kissing  her  on  the  brow.  "  I 
was  an  old  fool,"  he  muttered. 

"  What  do  you  say,  dear  papa  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  nothing.  Kiss  me  again. 
Well,  love,  you  had  better  find  this 
guardian  angel  of  yours,  that  I  may 
take  him  by  the  hand  and  give  him  a 
father's  blessing,  and  make  him  some 
little  return  by  carrying  him  home  to 
England  along  with  my  darling." 

"I  '11  call  him,  papa.  Where  can 
he  be  gone,  I  wonder." 

She  ran  out  to  the  terrace,  and 
called.  — 

"Mr.  Hazel!  Mr.  Hazel!  I  don't 
see  him  ;  but  he  can't  be  far  off.  Mr. 
Hazel  !  " 

Then  she  came  back  and  made  her 
fuller  sit  down  :  and  she  sat  at  his 
knee,  beaming  with  delight. 

"  Ah,  papa,"  said  she,  "  it  was  you 
who  loved  me  best  in  England.  It 
was  you  that  came  to  look  for 
me." 

"  No,"  said  he  "  there  are  others 
there  that  love  you  as  well  in  their 
way.  Poor  Wardlaw  !  on  his  sick- 
bed for  you,  cut  down  like  a  flower 
the  moment  he  heard  you  were  lost 
in  the  Proserpine.  Ah,  and  I  have 
broken  faith." 

"  That  is  a  story,"  said  Helen  ; 
"  you  could  n't." 

"  For  a  moment,  I  mean  ;  I  prom- 
ised the  dear  old  man  — he  furnished 
the  ship,  the  men,  and  the  money  to 
find  yon.  He  says  you  are  as  much 
his  daughter  as  mine." 

"  Well,  but  what  did  you  promise 
him  ?  "  said  Helen,  blushing  and  in- 
terrupting hastily,  for  she  could  not 
bear  the  turn  matters  were  taking. 

"  0,  only  to  give  you  the  second 
kiss  from  Arthur.  Come,  better  late 
than  never."  She  knelt  before  him, 
and  put  out  her  forehead  instead  of  her 
lips.       "  There,"   said   the  General, 


174 


roUL    PLAY. 


"  that  kiss  is  from  Arthur  Wardhvw, 
your  intended.  Wliy,  who  the  deuce 
is  this  ■?  " 

A  young  man  was  standing  won- 
der-struck at  the  entrance,  and  had 
heard  the  General's  hist  words  ;  they 
went  tlirough  him  like  a  knife.  Gen- 
eral KoUesion  stared  at  him. 

Helen  uttered  an  ejaculation  of 
pleasure,  and  said,  "  This  is  my  dear 
father,  and  he  wants  to  thank 
you  —  " 

"  I  don't  understand  this,"  said  the 
General.  "  I  thought  you  told  me  there 
was  noliody  on  the  island  hut  you  and 
your  guardian  angel.  Did  you  count 
this  poor  fellow  for  nobody  ?  Why, 
he  did  you  a  good  turn  once." 

"  O  papa  !  "  said  Helen,  rcproach- 
fiillv.  "  Why,  this  is  my  guardian 
angel.     This  is  Mr.  Hazel." 

The  General  looked  from  one  to 
another  in  amazement,  then  he  said 
to  Helen,  "  This  your  Mr.  Hazel  ? " 

"  Yes,  papa." 

"  Why,  you  don't  mean  to  tell  me 
you  don't  know  this  man  ?  " 

"  Know  him,  papa!  why,  of  course 
I  know  Mr.  Hazel ;  know  him  and 
revere  him,  beyond  all  the  world,  ex- 
cept you." 

The  General  lost  patience.  "Are 
you  out  of  your  senses?"  said  he; 
"  this  man  here  is  no  Hazel.  Why, 
this  is  James  Scaton — our  gardener 
—  a  ticket-of-Icave  niitn." 


CHAPTER  LI. 

At  this  fearful  insult  Helen  drew 
back  from  her  father  with  a  cry  of 
dismay,  and  then  moved  towards  Hazel 
with  her  hands  extended,  as  if  to 
guard  him  from  another  blow,  and  at 
tlie  same  time  deprecate  his  resent- 
ment. But  then  she  saw  his  dejected 
attitude ;  and  she  stood  confounded, 
looking  from  one  to  the  otlicr. 

"  I  knew  him  in  a  moment  by  his 
beard,"  said  the  General,  coolly. 

"  Ah  !  "  cried  Helen,  and  stood 
transfixed.     She  glared  at  Hazel  and 


his  beard  with  dilating  eyes,  and  be- 
gan to  tremble. 

Then  she  crept  back  to  her  father 
and  held  him  tight;  but  still  looked 
over  her  shoulder  at  Hazel  with  dilat- 
ing eyes  and  paling  cheek. 

As  for  Hiizel,  his  deportment  all 
this  time  went  far  towards  convicting 
him  ;  he  leaned  against  the  side  of 
the  cave,  and  hung  his  head  in  silence  : 
and  his  face  was  asliy  pale.  When 
General  Rolleston  saw  his  dcej)  dis- 
tress, and  the  sudden  terror  and  re- 
])ugnance  the  revelation  seemed  to 
create  in  his  daughter's  mind,  he  felt 
sorry  he  had  gone  so  far,  and  said : 
"  Well,  well ;  it  is  not  for  me  to  judge 
you  harshly ;  for  you  have  Jaid  me 
under  a  deep  obligation  :  and,  after 
all,  I  can  see  good  reasons  why  you 
should  conceal  your  name  from  other 
people.  But  j'ou  ought  to  have  told 
my  daughter  the  truth." 

Helen  interrupted  him  ;  or,  rather, 
she  seemed  unconscious  he  was  speak- 
ing. She  had  never  lor  an  instant 
taken  her  eye  off  the  culprit:  and 
now  she  spoke  to  him  :  — 

"  Who,  and  what,  are  you,  sir?  " 

"  My  name  is  Robert  Penfold." 

"  Penfold  !  Seaton  !  "  cried  Helen. 
"Alias  u])on  alias  !  "  And  she  turned 
to  her  father  in  despair.  Then  to 
Hazel  again.  "Are  you  what  papa 
says  ? " 

"I  am." 

"  O  papa  !  papa !  "  cried  Helen, 
"  then  there  is  no  truth  nor  honesty 
in  all  the  world  !  "  And  she  turned 
her  back  on  Robert  I'enfold,  and  cried 
and  sobl)ed  ujjon  her  father's  breast. 

0  the  amazement  and  anguish  of 
that  hour!  The  pure  affection  and 
reverence  that  would  have  blest  a 
worthy  man,  wasted  on  a  convict! 
Her  heart's  best  treasures  Hung  on  a 
dunghill  !  This  is  a  woman's  great- 
est loss  on  earth.  And  Helen  sank, 
and  sobbed  under  it. 

General  Rolleston,  whose  own  heart 
was  fortilied,  took  a  shallow  view  of 
the  situation  ;  and,  moreover,  Helen's 
face  was  hidden  on  his  bosom  ;  and 
what    he    saw  was    Hazel's    manly 


FOUL  PLAY. 


175 


and  intelligent  countenance  pale  and 
dragged  with  agony  and  shame. 

"  Come,  come,"  he  said,  gently, 
"  don't  cry  about  it ;  it  is  not  your 
fault :  and  don't  be  too  hard  on  the 
man.  You  told  me  he  had  saved 
your  life." 

"  ^Yould  he  had  not!"  said  the 
sobbing  girl. 

"  Tiiere,  Seaton,"  said  the  General. 
"  Now  you  see  the  consequences  of 
deceit ;  it  wipes  out  the  deepest  obli- 
gations." He  resumed,  in  a  different 
tone,  "But  not  with  rae.  This  is  a 
woman  :  but  I  am  a  man,  and  know 
how  a  bad  man  could  have  abused 
the  situation  in  which  I  found  you 
two." 

"  Not  worse  than  he  has  done," 
cried  Helen. 

"  What  do  you  tell  me,  girl !  " 
said  General  Rolleston,  beginning  to 
ti'emble  in  his  turn. 

"  What  could  ho  do  worse  than 
steal  my  esteem  and  veneration,  and 
drag  my  heart's  best  feelings  in  the 
dirt?  O,  wliere  —  where  can  I  ever 
look  for  a  guide,  instructor,  and  faith- 
ful friend,  after  this  1  He  seemed  all 
truth;  and  "he  is  all  a  lie  :  tlie  world 
is  all  a  lie :  would  I  could  leave  it 
this  moment ! " 

"  This  is  all  romantic  nonsense," 
said  General  Rolleston,  beginning  to 
be  angry.  "  You  are  a  little  fool,  and 
in  your  ignorance  and  innocence  liave 
no  idea  how  well  this  young  fellow 
has  behaved  on  the  whole.  I  tell  you 
what ;  —  in  spite  of  this  one  fault,  I 
should  like  to  shake  him  by  the  hand. 
I  will  too ;  and  then  admonish  him 
afterwards." 

"  You  shall  not.  You  shall  not," 
cried  Helen,  seizing  him  almost  vio- 
lently by  the  arm.  "  You  take  him 
by  the  hand  !  A  monster  !  How 
dare  you  steal  into  my  esteem  ?  How 
dare  you  be  a  miracle  of  goodness, 
self-denial,  learning,  and  every  virtue 
that  a  lady  might  worship  and  thank 
God  for,  when  all  the  time  you  are  a 
vile,  convicted  —  " 

"  I  '11  tliank  you  not  to  say  that 
word,"  said  Hazel,  firmly. 


"  I  '11  call  you  what  you  are,  if  I 
choose,"  said  Helen,  defiantly.  But 
for  all  that  .she  did  not  do  it.  She 
said  piteously,  "  What  offence  had  I 
ever  given  you  1  What  crime  had  I 
ever  committed,  tluvt  you  must  make 
me  the  victim  of  this  diabolical  de- 
ceit 1  O  sir,  wiiat  powers  of  mind 
you  have  wasted  to  achieve  this  vic- 
tory over  a  poor  unoffending  girl ! 
What  was  your  motive  ?  What  good 
could  come  of  it  to  you  1  He  won't 
speak  to  me.  He  is  not  even  penitent. 
Sullen  and  obstinate !  He  shall  be 
taken  to  England,  and  well  punished 
for  it.     Papa,  it  is  your  duty." 

"  Helen,"  said  the  General,  "  you 
ladies  are  rather  too  fond  of  hitting 
a  man  when  he  is  down.  And  you 
speak  daggers,  as  the  saying  is  ;  and 
then  wish  you  had  bitten  your  tongue 
off  sooner.  You  are  my  child,  but 
you  are  also  a  British  subject ;  and, 
if  you  charge  me  on  my  duty  to  take 
this  man  to  England  and  have  him 
imprisoned,  I  must.  But,  before  you 
go  that  length,  you  had  better  hear 
the  whole  story." 

"  Sir,"  said  Robert  Penfold,  quietly, 
"  I  will  go  back  to  prison  this  minute, 
if  she  wishes  it." 

"  How  dare  you  interrupt  papa," 
said  Helen,  haughtily,  but  with  a 
great  sob. 

"  Come,  come,"  said  the  General, 
"  be  quiet,  botii  of  you,  and  let  me  say 
my  say."  (To  Robert.)  "  You  had 
better  turn  your  head  away,  for  I  am 
a  straight-forward  man,  and  I'm  going 
to  show  her  you  are  not  a  villain,  but 
a  madman.  This  Robert  Penfold 
wrote  me  a  letter,  imploring  me  to 
find  him  some  honest  employment, 
however  menial.  That  looked  well, 
and  I  made  him  my  gardener.  He 
was  a  capital  gardener ;  but  one  fine 
day  he  caught  sight  of  you.  You  are 
a  very  lovely  girl,  though  you  don't 
seem  to  know  it ;  and  lie  is  a  madman  ; 
and  he  fell  in  love  with  you."  Helen 
uttered  an  ejaculation  of  great  sur- 
prise. The  General  resumed  :  "  He 
can  only  have  seen  you  at  a  distance, 
or  you  would  recognize    him;    but 


176 


FOUL  PLAY. 


(really  it  is  laughable)  he  saw  you 
somehow,  thoujjh  you  did  not  see 
him,  and —  Well,  liis  insanity  hurt 
himself,  and  did  not  iiurt  you.  You 
remember  how  he  suspected  burglars, 
and  watelied  night  after  night  under 
your  window.  That  was  out  of 
love  for  you.  His  insanity  took  the 
form  of  lidelity  and  humble  devotion. 
He  got  a  wound  for  his  pains,  ])oor 
fellow  !  and  you  made  Arthur  Ward- 
law  get  him  a  elerk's  place." 

"  Arthur  Wai'dlaw  !  "  cried  Seaton. 
"  Was  it  to  him  I  owed  it  ?  "  and  he 
groaned  aloutl. 

Said  Helen  :  "  He  hates  poor  Ar- 
thur, his  benefactor."  'J'hen  to  Pen- 
fold  :  "  If  you  are  that  James  Seaton, 
j-ou  received  a  letter  from  me." 

"  I  did,"  said  I'cnfold  ;  and,  put- 
ting his  hand  in  his  bosom,  he  drew  out 
a  letter  and  showed  it  her. 

"  Let  me  see  it,"  said  Helen. 

"  O  no  !  don't  take  this  from  me, 
too,"  said  be,  pitcously. 

General  Rolleston  continued.  "  The 
Say  you  sailed  he  disajipcared  ;  and 
I  am  afraid  not  without  some  wild 
idea  of  being  in  the  same  ship  with 
you.  This  was  very  reprehensible. 
Do  you  hear,  young  man  ?  But 
what  is  the  conse((uence  1  You  get 
shipwrecked  together,  and  the  young 
madman  takes  such  care  of  you  that 
I  find  you  well  and  hearty,  and  call- 
ing him  your  guardian  angel.  And 
—  another  thing  to  his  credit  —  he 
has  set  his  wits  to  work  to  restore 
3'ou  to  the  world.  These  ducks,  one 
of  which  brings  me  here  ?  Of  course 
it  was  he  who  contrived  that,  not 
you.  Young  man,  you  must  learn  to 
look  things  in  the  face  ;  this  young 
lady  is  not  of  your  sphere,  to  begin  ; 
and,  in  the  next  place,  she  is  engaged 
to  Mr.  Arthur  Wardlaw  ;  and  I  am 
come  out  in  his  stcainboat  to  take  her 
to  him.  And  as  for  you,  Helen,  take 
my  advice  ;  think  what  most  convicts 
are,  compared  to  this  one.  Shut  your 
eyes  entirely  to  his  folly  as  I  shall  ; 
and  let  you  and  I  think  only  of  his 
good  deeds,  and  so  make  him  all  the 
return  we  can.     Y^ou  and  I  will  go  on 


board  the  steamboat  directly ;  and, 
when  we  are  there,  we  can  tell  More- 
land  there  is  somebody  else  on  the 
island."  He  then  turned  to  Tenfold, 
aiul  said  :  "  ]My  daughter  aiul  I  will 
keep  in  the  after-part  of  the  vessel, 
and  anybody  that  likes  can  leave  the 
ship  at  Valparaiso.  Helen,  I  know 
it  is  wrong  ;  but  what  can  I  do  ?  —  1 
am  so  hajjpy.  You  are  alive  and 
well ;  how  can  I  punish  or  afflict  a  hu- 
man creature  to-day  ?  and,  above  all, 
how  can  I  crush  this  unhappy  young 
man,  without  whom  I  should  never 
have  seen  you  again  in  this  world  ? 
]\ly  daughter !  my  dear  lost  child!" 
And  he  held  her  at  arm's  length  and 
gazed  at  her,  and  then  drew  her  to  his 
bosom  ;  and  for  him  Kobert  Penfold 
ceased  to  exist,  except  as  a  man  that 
had  saved  his  daughter. 

"  Papa,"  said  Helen,  after  a  long 
pause,  "just  make  him  tell  why  he 
could  not  trust  to  me.  Why  he 
passed  himself  off  to  me  for  a  clergy- 
man." 

"  I  am  a  clergyman,"  said  Robert 
Penfold. 

"  Oh  !  "  said  Plelen,  shocked  to  find 
him  so  hardened,  as  she  thought. 
She  lifted  her  hands  to  heaven,  and 
the  tears  streamed  from  her  eyes. 
"  Well,  sir,"  said  she,  faintly,  "  I  see 
I  cannot  reach  your  conscience.  One 
question  more  and  then  I  have  done 
with  you  forever.  Why  in  all  these 
months  that  we  have  been  alone,  and 
that  you  have  shown  me  the  nature, 
I  don't  say  of  an  honest  man,  but  of 
an  angel, — yes,  papa,  of  an  angel, — 
why  could  you  not  show  me  one 
humble  virtue,  sincerity  1  It  be- 
longs to  a  man.  Why  could  you  not 
say,  '  I  have  committed  one  crime  in 
my  life,  hut  rejicntcd  forever;  judge 
by  this  confession,  and  by  what  you 
have  seen  of  me,  whether  I  shall  ever 
commit  another.  Take  me  as  I  am, 
and  esteem  me  as  a  penitent  and 
more  worthy  man  ;  but  I  will  not  de- 
ceive you  and  pass  for  a  paragon  ' 
AVhy  could  you  not  say  as  much  as 
this  to  me?  If  you  loved  me,  why 
deceive  me  so  cruelly  ?  " 


FOUL  PLAY. 


177 


These  words,  uttered  no  longer 
harshly,  but  in  a  mournful,  faint,  de- 
spairing voice,  produced  an  etfect  tlie 
speaker  little  expected.  Robert  Fen- 
fold  made  two  attempts  to  speak,  but 
thouo-h  he  opened  liis  moutli,  and  his 
lips  quivered,  he  could  get  no  word 
out.  He  began  to  choke  with  emo- 
tion ;  and,  thou'.:h  lie  shed  no  tears, 
the  convulsion  that  goes  with  weeping 
in  weaker  natures  overpowered  him  in 
a  way  that  was  almost  terrible. 

"  Confound  it  ! "  said  General 
Rolleston,  "  this  is  monstrous  of  you, 
Helen  ;  it  is  barbarous.  You  are  not 
like  your  poor  mother." 

She  was  pale  and  trembling,  and 
the  tears  flowing;  but  she  showed  her 
native  obstinacy.  She  said  hoarsely  : 
"Papa,  you  are  blind.  He  must  an- 
swer me.     He  knows  he  must !  " 

"  I  must,"  said  Robert  Penfold, 
gasping  still.  Then  he  manned  him- 
self l)y  a  mighty  effort,  and  repeated 
with  dignity,  "  I  will."  There  was 
a  pause  while  the  young  man  still 
struggled  for  composure  and  self- 
command. 

"  Was  I  not  often  on  the  point  of 
telling  you  my  sad  story  ?  Then  is  it 
fair  to  say  that  I  should  never  have 
told  it  you  ?  But,  O  Miss  Rolles- 
ton,  you  don't  know  what  agony  it 
may  be  to  an  unfortunate  man  to  tell 
the  truth.  There  are  accusations  so 
terrible,  so  dejUliiq,  that,  when  a  man 
has  proved  them  false,  they  still  stick 
to  iiim  and  soil  him.  Such  an  accu- 
sation I  labor  under,  and  a  judge  and 
a  jury  have  branded  me.  If  they  had 
called  me  a  murderer,  I  would  have 
told  you ;  but  that  is  such  a  dirty 
crime.  I  feared  the  prejudices  of  the 
world.  I  dreaded  to  see  your  face  al- 
ter to  me.  Yes,  I  trembled,  and  hesi- 
tated, and  a<ked  myself  whether  a 
man  is  bound  to  repeat  a  foul  slander 
against  himself,  even  when  thirteen 
shallow  men  have  said  it,  and  made 
the  lie  law." 

"  There,"  said  General  Rolleston, 
"  I  thought  how  it  would  be,  Helen  ; 
you  have  tormented  him  into  defend- 
12 


ing  himself,  tooth  and  nail ;  so  now 
we  shall  have  the  old  story ;  he  is  in- 
nocent ;  I  never  knew  a  convict  that 
was  n't,  if  he  found  a  fool  to  listen  to 
him.  I  decline  to  hear  anotlier  word. 
You  need  n't  excuse  yourself  for 
changing  your  name ;  I  excuse  it, 
and  that  is  enough.  But  the  boat  is 
waiting,  and  we  can't  stay  to  hear  you 
justify  a  felony." 

"  1     AJI     NOT     A     FELON.       I    AM    A 
MARTYK." 


CHAPTER  LII. 

Robert  Penfold  drew  himself  up 
to  his  full  height,  and  uttered  these 
strange  words  with  a  sad  majesty  that 
was  very  imposing.  But  General 
Rolleston,  steeled  by  experience  of 
convicts,  their  plausibility,  and  their 
histrionic  powers,  was  staggered  only 
for  a  moment.  He  deigned  no  reply  ; 
but  told  Helen  Captain  Moreland  was 
waiting  for  her,  and  she  had  better  go 
on  board  at  once. 

She  stood  like  a  statue. 

"  No,  papa,  I  '11  not  turn  my  back 
on  him  till  I  know  whether  he  is  a  fel- 
on or  a  martyr." 

"  My  poor  child,  has  he  caught  you 
at  once  witli  a  clever  phrase "?  A 
judge  and  a  jury  have  settled  that." 

"  They  settled  it  as  you  would  set- 
tle it,  by  refusing  to  hear  me." 

"  Have  I  refused  to  hear  you  ?  " 
said  Helen.  "  What  do  I  care  for  steam- 
boats and  captains  ?  If  I  stay  here  to 
all  eternity,  I  '11  know  from  your  own 
lips  and  your  own  face  whether  you 
are  a  felon  or  a  martyr.  It  is  no 
phrase,  papa.  He  is  a  felon  or  a  mar- 
tyr ;  and  I  am  a  inost  unfortunate 
girl,  or  else  a  base,  disloyal  one." 

"  Fiddle-dee,"  said  General  Rolles- 
ton, angrily.  Then,  looking  at  his 
watch:  "  I  give  you  five  minutes  to 
humbug  us  in  —  if  you  can." 

Robert  Penfold  sighed  patiently. 
But  from  that  moment  he  ignored 
General  Rolleston,  and  looked  to 
Helen  only.  And  she  fixed  her  eyes 
upon  his  face  with  a  tenacity  and  an 


i; 


FOUL   PLAY. 


intensity  of  observation  that  surpassed 
sinytliiii^-  lie  had  ever  seen  in  iiis  life. 
It  dazzled  him  ;  but  it  did  not  dismay 
him. 

"  Miss  Rolleston,"  said  lie,  "  my 
history  can  he  told  in  the  time  my 
prejudiced  judj^e  allows  me.  I  am  a 
clerj^yman,  and  a  private  tutor  at  Ox- 
ford. One  of  my  pupils  was  —  Ar- 
thur Wardlaw.  I  took  an  interest  in 
him  because  my  lather,  Michael  Pen- 
fold,  was  in  Wardlaw's  cm])loy.  This 
Artluir  Wardlaw  had  a  talent  for  mim- 
icry ;  he  mimicked  one  of  the  coUeg-e 
officers  publicly  and  offensively,  and 
was  about  to  he  expelled,  and  that 
would  have  ruined  his  immediate 
prospects  :  for  his  father  is  just,  but 
stern.  I  fou^dit  hard  for  him,  and, 
lieing  myself  ])opular  with  the  author- 
ities, I  got  him  off.  He  was  grateful, 
or  seemed  to  be,  and  we  became 
greater  friends  than  ever.  We  con- 
fided in  each  other.  He  told  me  he 
was  in  debt  in  Oxford,  and  much 
alarmed  lest  it  should  reach  his 
father's  ears,  and  lose  him  the  prom- 
ised partnership.  I  told  him  I  was 
desirous  to  buy  a  small  living  near 
Oxfoid,  which  was  then  vacant ;  but 
I  had  only  saved  .£  400,  and  the  price 
was  £  1,000  ;  I  had  no  means  of  rais- 
ing the  lialancc.  Then  he  said,  'Bor- 
row .£2,000  of  my  father ;  give  me 
fourteen  hundred  of  it,  and  take  your 
own  time  to  rejiay  the  £  600.  I  shall 
be  my  father's  ])artner  in  a  month  or 
two,'  said  he  ;  '  you  can  pay  us  back 
by  instalments.'  I  thought  this  very 
kind  of  him.  I  did  not  want  the  liv- 
ing for  myself,  but  to  give  my  dear 
father  certain  comf)rts  and  country 
air  every  week  ;  he  needed  it :  he  was 
l)orn  in  the  country.  Well,  I  came  to 
London  about  this  business  ;  and  a 
stranger  called  on  me,  and  said  he 
came  from  Mr.  Arthur  Wardlaw,  who 
was  not  well  enough  to  come  himself 
He  ])roduced  a  note  of  hand  for 
£2,000,  signed  John  Wardjaw.  and 
made  me  indorse  it,  and  told  nic 
where  to  get  it  cashed  ;  he  would  come 
next  day  for  Artbin-  Wardlaw's  share 
of  the  money.     Well,  I  suspected  no 


ill ;  would  you  ?  I  went  and  got  the 
note  discounted,  and  locked  the  mon- 
ey up.  It  was  not  my  money : 
the  greater  part  was  Arthur  Ward- 
law's.  That  same  evening  a  ])olicc- 
man  called,  and  asked  several  ques- 
tions, which  of  course  I  answered. 
He  then  got  me  out  of  the  house  on 
some  pretence,  and  arrested  me  as  a 
forger." 

"  Oh  !  "  cried  Helen. 

"  I  forgot  the  clergyman  ;  I  was  a 
gentleman,  and  a  man,  insulted,  and 
I  knocked  the  officer  down  directly. 
But  his  myrmidons  overpowered  me. 
I  was  ti'ied  at  the  Central  Criminal 
Court  on  two  charges.  First,  the 
Crown  (as  they  call  the  attorney  that 
draws  the  indictment)  charged  me 
with  forging  the  note  of  hand  ;  and 
then  with  not  forging  it,  but  passing 
it,  well  knowing  that  somebodv  else 
had  forged  it.  Well,  Undercliff,  the 
Exjiert,  swore  positively  that  the 
forged  note  was  not  written  bj'  me ; 
and  the  Crown,  as  they  call  it,  was 
defeated  on  tliat  charge  ;  but  being 
proved  a  liar  in  a  court  of  justice  did 
not  abash  my  accuser;  the  second 
charge  was  pressed  with  equal  confi- 
dence. The  note,  yon  are  to  under- 
stand, was  forged  :  that  admits  of  no 
doubt ;  and  I  ])assed  it ;  the  question 
was  whether  I  ])assed  it  knowing  it  to 
be  forged.  How  was  that  to  be  de- 
termined ?  And  here  it  was  that  my 
own  familiar  friend,  in  whom  I  trust- 
ed, destroyed  me.  Of  course,  as  soon 
as  I  was  put  in  prison,  I  wrote  and 
sent  to  Arthur  Wardlaw.  "Would 
you  believe  it  'i  he  would  not  come  to 
me.  He  would  noteven  write.  Then, 
as  the  time  drew  near,  I  feared  he  was 
a  traitor.  I  treated  him  like  one.  I 
told  my  solicitor  to  drag  him  into 
court  as  my  witness,  ami  riuike  him 
tell  the  truth.  The  cleik  went  down 
accordingly,  and  found  he  kept  his 
door  always  locked  ;  hut  the  clerk 
outwitted  him,  and  served  him  with 
tlu!  subjKena  in  his  bedroom,  before  he 
coidd  crawl  under  the  bed.  But  he 
hatlled  us  at  hist  ;  he  never  appeared 
in   the    witness-box ;    and   when    my 


FOUL  PLAY. 


179 


counsel  asked  the  court  to  imprison 
him,  his  father  swore  he  could  not 
come  :  he  was  dying,  and  all  out  of 
sympathy  with  me.  Fine  sympatliy  ! 
t'.iat  closed  the  lips,  and  concealed  the 
truth  ;  one  syllable  of  which  would 
have  saved  his  friend  and  benefactor 
from  a  calamity  worse  than  death.  Is 
the  truth  poison,  that  to  tell  it  makes 
a  sick  man  die?  Is  the  truth  hell, 
that  a  dyincj  man  refuses  to  speak  it  1 
How  can  a  man  die  better  than  speak- 
ing the  truth  f  How  can  he  die  worse 
than  withliolding  it  ?  I  believe  his 
sickness  and  his  death  were  lies  like 
himself.  For  want  of  one  word  from 
Arthur  Wardlaw  to  explain  that  I  had 
every  reason  to  expect  a  note  of  hand 
from  him,  the  jury  condemned  me. 
They  were  twelve  honest  but  shallow 
men  —  invited  to  go  inside  another 
man's  bosom,  and  guess  what  was 
there.  They  guessed  that  I  knew  and 
understood  a  thing  which  to  this  hour 
I  neither  know  nor  understand,  by 
God  ! " 

He  paused  a  moment,  then  re- 
sumed :  — 

"I  believe  tliey  founded  their  con- 
jecture on  ray  knocking  down  the  offi- 
cer. There  was  a  reason  for  you  ! 
Why,  forgers  and  their  confederates 
are  reptiles,  and  have  no  fight  in  them. 
Experience  proves  this.  But  these 
twelve  men  did  not  go  by  experience  ; 
they  guessed,  like  bainos,  and,  after 
much  hesitation,  condemned  me  ;  but 
recommended  me  to  mercy.  Mercy ! 
What  mercy  did  I  deserve  ?  Eitlier  I 
was  innocent,  or  hanging  was  too 
good  for  me.  No;  in  their  hearts 
they  doubted  my  guilt  ;  and  their 
doubt  took  that  timid  form  instead  of 
ac(iuitting  me.  I  was  amazed  at  the 
verdict,  and  asked  leave  to  tell  the 
judge  why  Arthur  Wardlaw  had  defied 
the  court,  and  absented  himself  as  my 
witness.  Had  the  judge  listened  for 
one  minute,  he  would  have  seen  I  was 
innocent.  But  no.  I  was  in  Eng- 
land where  the  month  of  the  accused 
is  stopped,  if  he  is  fool  enough  to 
employ  counsel.  The  judge  stop])ed 
iny  mouth,  as  your  father  just  now 


tried  to  stop  it ;  and  they  branded 
me  as  a  felon. 

"  Up  to  that  moment  my  life  was 
honorable  and  wortiiy.  Since  that 
moment  I  have  never  wronged  a 
human  creature.  Men  pass  from  vir- 
tue to  vice,  from  vice  to  crime ;  this 
is  the  ladder  a  soul  goes  down ;  but 
you  are  invited  to  believe  that  I 
jumped  from  innocence  into  a  filthy 
felony,  and  then  jumped  back  again 
none  the  worse,  and  was  a  gardener 
that  fought  for  his  employer,  and  a 
lover  that  controlled  his  passion.  It 
is  a  lie,  —  a  lie  that  ought  not  to  take 
in  a  child.  But  prejudice  degrades  a 
man  below  the  level  of  a  child.  1  '11 
say  no  more ;  my  patience  is  exhaust- 
ed by  wrongs  and  insults.  I  am  as 
honest  a  man  as  ever  breathed  ;  and 
the  place  where  we  stand  is  mine,  for 
I  made  it.  Leave  it  and  me  this  mo- 
ment. Go  to  England,  and  leave  me 
where  the  animals,  more  reasonable 
than  you,  have  the  sense  to  sec  my  real 
character.  I'll  not  sail  in  the  same 
ship  with  any  man,  nor  any  woman, 
either,  who  can  look  me  in  the  face, 
and  take  me  for  a  felon." 

He  swelled  and  cowered  with  the 
just  wrath  of  an  honest  man  driven 
to  bay  ;  and  his  eye  shot  black  light- 
ning.    He  was  sublime. 

Helen  cowcreil ;  but  her  spirited  old 
father  turned  red,  and  said,  haughtily  : 
"  We  take  you  at  your  word,  and 
leave  you,  you  insolent  vagabond  ! 
Follow  me  this  instant,  Helen  !  " 

And  he  marched  out  of  the  cavern 
in  a  fury. 

But,  instead  of  following  him, 
Helen  stood  stock-still,  and  cowered, 
and  cowei-ed  till  she  seemed  sinking- 
forward  to  the  ground,  and  she  got 
hidd  of  Robert  PenCold's  hand,  and 
kissed  it,  and  moaned  over  it. 

"  Martyr !  Martyr  !  "  she  whispered, 
and  still  kissed  his  hand,  like  a  slave 
offering  her  master  pity,  and  asking 
pardon. 

"Martyr!  Martyr!  Every  word  is 
true, — true  as  my  love." 

In  this  attitude,  and  with  these 
words  on  her  lips,  they  were  surprised 


180 


FOUL   PLAY. 


by  General  Rolleston,  who  came  back, 
astonished  at  his  daughter  not  follow- 
ing him.  Judge  of  his  amazement 
now. 

"  What  doc-  this  mean  ?  "  he  cried, 
turninLC  p;iIo  with  an<^er. 

"  It  means  that  he  has  spoken  the 
truth,  and  that  I  shall  imitate  him. 
He  is  my  martyr,  and  my  luve.  When 
others  cast  shame  on  you,  tlien  it  is 
time  for  me  to  show  my  heart.  James 
Seaton,  I  love  you  for  your  madness 
and  your  devotion  to  her  whom  yon 
had  only  seen  at  a  distance.  All ! 
that  was  love !  John  ILizul,  I  love 
you  for  all  that  has  passed  between 
us.  What  can  any  other  man  be  to 
me?  —  or  woman  to  you  ?  But,  most 
of  ail,  I  love  you,  Robert  Pcnfold,  — 
my  hero  and  ray  martyr.  Wiien  I 
am  told  to  your  fice  that  you  arc  a 
felon,  then  to  your  face  I  say  you  ate 
my  iilol,  my  hero,  and  my  martyr. 
Love !  the  vvn-d  is  too  tame,  too 
common.  I  worship  you,  I  adore 
you !  How  beautiful  you  are  when 
you  are  angry !  How  noble  you  are 
now  you  fori^ive  me  !  for  you  do  for- 
give me,  llobcit ;  you  must,  you 
shall.  No ;  you  will  not  send  your 
Helen  away  from  you  for  her  one 
fault  so  soon  repented !  Show  me 
you  forgive  me ;  show  me  you  love 
me  still,  almost  as  much  as  I  love 
you.  lie  is  crying.  ()  my  darling, 
my  darling,  my  darling!"  And  she 
was  round  iiis  neck  in  a  moment,  with 
tears  and  tender  kisses,  the  first  she 
had  ever  given  him. 

Ask  yourself  whether  they  were  re- 
turned. 

A  groan,  or  rather,  wc  might  say,  a 
snort  of  fury,  intcrru])tcd  the  most 
blisslid  moment  either  of  these  yount; 
creatures  had  ever  known.  It  came 
from  General  Rolleston,  now  white 
with  wrath  and  horror. 

"  You  villain  !  "  he  cried. 

Helen  threw  herself  upon  him,  and 
put  her  hand  before  his  mouth. 

"  Not  a  word  more,  or  I  shall  for- 
get I  am  your  daughter.  No  one  is 
to  blame  i)ut  I.  I  love  him.  I  made 
him  love  me.     He   has   been   trying 


hard  not  to  love  me  so  much.  But  I 
am  a  woman ;  and  could  not  deny 
myself  the  glory  and  the  joy  of  being 
loved  better  than  woman  was  ever 
loved  before.  And  so  1  am  ;  I  am. 
Kill  me,  if  you  like;  insult  me,  if  you 
will  :  but  not  a  word  against  liim,  or 
I  give  him  my  hand,  and  we  live  and 
die  together  on  this  island.  O  papa! 
he  has  often  saved  that  life  you  value 
so ;  and  I  have  saved  his.  '  He  is  all 
the  world  to  me.  Have  pity  on  your 
child.  Have  pity  on  him  who  carries 
my  heart  in  his  bosom." 

She  flung  herself  on  her  knees,  and 
strained  him  tight,  and  imjilored  him, 
with  head  tin  own  back,  and  little 
clut<hing  hands,  and  elotjuent  eyes. 

Ah!  it  is  liard  to  resist  the  "voice 
and  look  and  clinging  of  a  man's  own 
flesh  and  blood.  Children  are  so 
strong  —  upon  their  knees  :  their  dear 
laces,  bright  copies  of  our  own,  are 
just  the  height  of  our  hearts  then. 

The  old  man  was  staggered,  was 
almost  melted.  "  Give  mc  a  mo- 
ment to  think,"  said  he,  in  a  broken 
voice.  "  This  blow  takes  my  breath 
away." 

Helen  rose,  and  laid  her  head  upon 
her  father's  shoulder,  and  still  [ileaded 
for  her  love  by  her  soft  touch  and  her 
tears  that  now  flowed  freely. 

He  turned  to  Pcnfold  with  all  the 
dignity  of  age  and  station.  "  ]\lr. 
rcnfold,"  said  he,  with  grave  polite- 
ness, "  after  what  my  daughter  lias 
said,  I  must  treat  you  as  a  man  of 
honor,  or  I  must  insult  her.  Well, 
then,  I  expect  you  to  show  me  you 
arc  what  she  thinks  3"ou,  and  are  not 
what  a  court  of  justice  has  proclaimed 
you.  Sir,  this  young  lady  is  cn^raged 
with  her  own  free  will  to  a  gentleman 
who  is  universally  esteemed,  and  has 
never  been  accused  to  his  face  of  any 
unworthy  act.  Relying  on  her  plight- 
ed word,  the  Wardlaws  have  fitted  out 
a  steamer  and  searched  the  Pacili'',  and 
found  her.  Can  you,  as  a  man  ol  hon- 
or, advise  her  to  stay  here  and  com- 
promise her  own  honor  in  evcrvway  ? 
Ought  she  to  break  faith  with  her  be- 


FOUL  PLAY. 


181 


trothcd  on  account  of  vajrue  accusa- 
tions made  l)ehiiKl  his  back  ?  " 

"  It  was  only  in  self-defence  I  ac- 
cused Mr.  Arthur  Wardlavv/'  said 
Robert  Tenfold. 

General  Kolle^ton  resumed  :  — 

"You  said  just  now  there  are  ac- 
cusations which  soil  a  man.  If  you 
were  in  my  place,  would  you  let  your 
daughter  marry  a  man  of  honor,  who 
had  nnfoi-tunately  been  found  guilty 
of  a  felony?  " 

Robert  groaned  and  hesitated,  but 
he  said,  "  No." 

"  Thcia  what  is  to  be  done  ?  She 
must  either  keep  her  pliglited  word,  or 
else  break  it.  For  whom  ?  For  a  uen- 
tletnan  she  esteems  and  loves,  but  can- 
not marry.  A  leper  may  be  a  saint  ; 
but  I  would  rather  bury  my  cliild  than 
marry  her  to  a  leper.  A  convict  may 
be  a  saint ;  but  I  '11  kill  her  with  my 
o\.-n  hand  sooner  than  she  shall  marry 
a  convict :  and  in  your  heart  and  con- 
science you  caimot  blame  me.  Were 
you  a  father,  j'ou  would  do  the  same. 
What  then  remains  for  her  and  me  but 
to  keep  faith  ?  and  what  can  you  do 
better  than  leave  her,  and  carry  away 
her  everlasting  esteem  and  her  father's 
gratitude  ?  It  is  no  use  being  good  by 
halves,  or  bad  by  halves.  You  must 
cither  be  a  selfish  villain,  and  urge  her 
to  abandon  all  shame,  and  live  here  on 
this  island  with  you  forever,  or  you 
nmst  be  a  brave  and  honest  man,  and 
bow  to  a  parting  that  is  inevitable. 
Consiiler,  sir ;  your  eloquence  and  her 
pity  have  betrayed  this  young  lady  into 
a  confession  that  separates  you.  Her 
enforced  residence  here  with  you  has 
been  innocent.  It  would  ()e  innocent 
no  longer,  now  she  has  been  so  mad 
as  10  own  she  loves  you.  And  I  tell 
you  frankly,  if,  after  that  confession, 
you  insist  on  going  on  hoard  the 
steamer  with  her,  1  must  take  you; 
humanity  requires  it ;  but,  if  I  do,  I 
shall  hand  you  over  to  the  law  as  a 
convict  escaped  before  his  time.  Per- 
hajis  I  ouuht  to  do  so  as  it  is ;  but  that 
is  not  certain  ;  I  don't  know  to  what 
country  this  island  belongs.  I  may 
have    no    right    to    captui-e    you  in 


strange  dominions  ;  but  an  English 
ship  is  England,  —  and  if  you  set  foot 
on  the  Springliokyou  are  lost.  Now, 
then,  you  are  a  man  of  honor  ;  you 
love  my  child  ti'uly,  and  not  selfishly  : 
—  you  have  behaved  nobly  until  to- 
day ;  go  one  step  further  on  the  right 
road  ;  call  worldly  honor  and  the  God 
whose  vows  you  have  taken,  sir,  to 
your  aid,  and  do  your  duty." 

"  O  man,  man  !  "  cried  Ivobert  Pen- 
fold,  "  you  ask  more  of  me  than  flesh 
and  blood  can  bear.  What  shall  I 
say?     What  shall  I  do?  " 

Helen  replied,  calmly  :  "  Take  my 
hand,  and  let  us  die  toticther,  since  we 
cannot  live  together  with  honor." 

General  Rollcston  groaned.  "  For 
this,  then,  I  have  traversed  one  ocean, 
and  searched  another,  and  found  my 
child.  I  am  nothing  to  her,  —  noth- 
ing. 0,  who  would  be  a  father  !  "  He 
sat  down  oppressed  with  shame  and 
grief,  and  bowed  his  stately  head  in 
manly  but  pathetic  silence. 

"0  papa,  papa!"  cried  Helen, 
"  forgive  your  ungrateful  child ! " 
And  she  kneeled  and  sobbed,  with  her 
forehead  on  his  knees. 

Then  Robert  Penfold,  in  the  midst 
of  his  own  agony,  found  room  in  that 
great  suffering  heart  of  his  for  pity. 
He  knelt  down  himself,  and  prayed  for 
help  in  this  bitter  trial.  He  rose  hag- 
gard with  the  struggle,  but  languid 
and  resigned,  like  one  whose  death- 
warrant   has   becTi  read. 

"  Sir,"  said  he,  "  there  is  but  one 
way.  You  must  take  her  home  ;  and 
I  shall  stay  here." 

"  Leave  you  all  alone  on  this  isl- 
and ! "  said  Helen  "Never!  If 
you  stay  here,  I  shall  stay  to  comfort 
you." 

"  I  decline  that  offer.  I  am  beyond 
the  reach  of  comfort." 

"  Think  what  you  do,  Robert," 
said  Helen,  with  unnatural  calmness. 
"  If  you  have  no  pity  on  yourself, 
have  pity  on  us.  Would  you  rob  me 
of  the  very  life  you  have  taken  such 
pains  to  save  ?  My  poor  father  will 
carry  nothing  to  England  but  my 
dead  body.     Long   before   we  I'each 


182 


FOUL  PLAY. 


tliat  country  I  loved  so  well,  and  now 
hate  it  for  its  stuijiility  and  cruelty  to 
j-ou,  my  soul  will  have  flown  i)ack  to 
tills  island  to  watch  over  you,  Robert. 
You  bid  nie  to  abandon  you  to  soli- 
tude and  despair.  Neither  of  you  two 
love  me  half  as  much  as  I  love  you 
both." 

General  Rolleston  sijrhed  deeply. 
"  If  1  thoui^lit  that  —  "  said  he.  Then, 
in  a  faint  voice,  "My  own  courage 
fails  me  now.  I  look  into  my  heart, 
and  I  see  that  my  child's  life  is  dearer 
to  me  than  all  the  world.  She  was 
dyiiifJT,  they  say.  Suppose  I  send 
JNIoreland  to  the  Continent  for  a  cler- 
gyman, and  marry  you.  Then  you 
can  live  on  this  island  forever.  Only 
you  must  let  me  live  here  too  ;  for  I 
could  never  show  my  face  a(;;ain  in 
l>nL;land  after  actinj,'  sodishonorablv. 
It  will  be  a  miserable  end  of  a  life 
passed  in  honor ;  but  I  suppose  it 
will  not  be  for  long.  Shame  can  kill 
as  quickly  as  disappointed  love." 

"  Robert,  Rol)crt !  "  cried  Helen,  in 
agony. 

The  martyr  saw  that  he  was  mas- 
ter of  the  situation,  and  must  be  either 
base  or  very  noble,  —  there  was  no 
middle  way.  He  leaned  his  head  on 
his  hands,  and  thought  with  all  his 
might. 

"  Ilush  !  "  said  Helen  :  "  he  is  wis- 
er than  we  are.     Let  him  speak." 

"  If  I  thought  you  would  pine  and 
die  upon  the  voyage,  no  power  should 
part  us.  But  you  arc  not  such  a  cow- 
ard. If  my  life  depended  on  yours, 
would  you  not  live  ?  " 

"  You  know  I  would." 

"  When  I  was  wrecked  on  "White 
W^ater  Island,  you  played  the  man. 
Not  one  woman  in  a  thousand  could 
liave  launched  a  boat,  and  sailed  it 
with  a  boat-hook  for  a  mast,  and  —  " 

Helen  interrupted  him.  "It  was 
nothing  ;  I  loved  you.  I  love  you 
better  now." 

"  I  believe  it,  and  therefore  I  ask 
you  to  rise  above  your  sex  once  more, 
and  play  the  man  for  me.  This  time 
it  is  not  my  lite  you  arc  to  rescue,  but 


that  which  is  more  precious  still  :  my 
good  name." 

"  Ah !  that  would  be  worth  living 
for  !  "  cried  Helen. 

"  You  will  lind  it  very  hard  to  do ; 
but  not  harder  for  a  woman  than  to 
launch  a  boat,  and  sail  her  without  a 
mast.  Sec  my  father,  Michael  Ten- 
fold. See  Undeicliff,  the  expert. 
See  tlie  solicitor,  the  counsel.  Sift 
the  whole  story  ;  and,  above  all,  find 
out  why  Arthur  "Wardlaw  dared  not 
enter  the  witness-box.  Be  obstinate 
as  a  man ;  be  supple  as  a  woman  ;  and 
don't  talk  of  dying  when  there  is  a 
friend  to  be  rescued  from  dishonor  by 
living  and  working." 

"  Die  !  while  I  can  rescue  you  from 
death  or  dishonor !  I  will  not  be  so 
base.  Ah,  Robert,  Robert,  how  well 
you  know  me  !  " 

"  Yes,  I  do  know  you,  Helen.  I 
believe  that  great  soul  of  yours  will 
keep  your  body  strong  to  do  this  brave 
work  for  him  you  love,  and  w  ho  loves 
you.  And  as  for  me,  I  am  man 
enough  to  live  for  years  upon  this 
island,  if  you  will  only  promise  me 
two  things." 

"  I  promise,  then." 

"  Never  to  die,  and  never  to  marry 
Arthur  Wardlaw,  until  you  have  re- 
versed that  lying  sentence  which  has 
blasted  me.  Lay  your  hand  on  your 
father's  head,  and  jjromise  me  that." 

Helen  laid  her  hand  upon  her  fa- 
ther's head,  and  said:  "I  pledge  my 
honor  not  to  die,  if  life  is  possible,  and 
never  to  marry  any  man,  imtil  1  have 
reversed  that  lying  sentence  which  has 
blasted  the  angel  1  love." 

"And  I  pledge  myself  to  help  her," 
said  General  Holleston, warmly,  "  for 
now  I  /iiiiow  you  are  a  man  of  honor. 
1  have  too  often  been  deceived  by  elo- 
quence to  listen  much  to  that.  But 
now  you  have  proved  by  your  actions 
what  you  are.  You  pass  a  forged 
check,  knowing  it  to  be  forged  !  1  'd 
stake  my  salvation  it 's  a  lie.  There  's 
my  hand.  God  comfort  you  !  God 
reward  you,  my  noble  fellow  !  " 

"  I  ho])e  he  will,  sir,"  .sohlied  Rob- 
ert renfold.      "You  are  her  father; 


FOUL  PLAY. 


183 


and  you  take  ray  hand  ;  perhaps  that 
will  be  sweet  to  think  of  by  and  by ; 
but  no  joy  can  enter  my  heart  now ; 
it  is  broken.  Take  her  away  at  once, 
sir.  Flesh  is  weak.  My  powers  of 
endurance  are  exhausted." 

General  Rolleston  acted  promptly 
on  this  advice.  He  rolled  up  her  rugs, 
and  the  things  she  had  made,  and 
Robert  had  the  courage  to  take  them 
down  to  the  boat.  Then  he  came 
back,  and  the  General  took  her  bag 
to  the  boat. 

All  this  time  the  girl  herself  sat 
M'ringing  her  hands  in  anguish,  and 
not  a  tear.  It  was  beyond  that 
now. 

As  he  passed  Robert,  the  General 
said  :  "  Take  leave  of  her  alone.  I  will 
come  for  her  in  five  minutes.  You 
see  how  sure  I  feel  you  are  a  man  of 
honor." 

When  Robert  went  in,  she  rose  and 
tottered  to  him,  and  fell  on  his  neck. 
8Iie  saw  it  was  the  death-bed  of  their 
love,  and  she  kissed  his  eyes,  and 
clung  to  him.  They  moaned  over 
each  other,  and  clung  to  each  other  in 
mute  despair. 

The  General  came  back,  and  he 
and  Robert  took  Helen,  shivering 
and  fainting,  to  tlie  boat.  As  the 
boat  put  off,  she  awoke  from  her 
stupor,  and  put  out  her  hands  to 
Robert  with  one  piercing  cry. 

They  were  parted. 


CHAPTER  LIII. 

In  that  curious  compound  the 
human  heart,  a  resfiectablc  motive  is 
sometimes  connected  with  a  criminal 
act.  And  it  was  so  with  Joseph 
Wylie  :  he  had  formed  an  attaeliment 
to  Nancy  Rouse,  and  her  price  was 
two  thousand  pounds. 

This  Nancy  Rouse  was  a  charac- 
ter. She  was  General  Rolleston's 
servant  for  many  years ;  her  place 
was  the  kitchen :  but  she  was  a  wo- 
man of  such  restless  activity,  and  so 
wanting   in   the    proper  pride   of   a 


servant,  that  she  would  help  a  house- 
maid, or  a  lady's  maid,  or  do  any- 
thing almost,  except  be  idle :  to  use 
her  own  words,  she  was  one  as 
could  n't  abide  to  sit  mumchance. 
That  fated  I'oe  to  domestic  industry, 
the  London  Journal,  lluttered  in 
vain  down  her  area,  for  she  could 
not  read.  Slie  supported  a  sick 
mother  out  of  her  wages,  aided  by  a 
few  presents  of  money  and  clothes 
from  Helen  Rolleston,  who  had  a 
great  regard  for  Nancy,  aiul  knew 
what  a  hard  fight  she  had  to  keep  a 
sick  woman  out  of  her  twenty  pounds 
a  year.  , 

In  love,  Nancy  was  unfortunate; 
her  buxom  looks  and  sterling  virtues 
were  balanced  by  a  provoking  saga- 
city, and  an  irritating  habit  of  speak- 
ing her  mind.  She  humbled  her 
lovers'  vanity,  one  after  another,  and 
they  fled.  Her  heart  smarted  more 
than  once. 

Nancy  was  ambitious ;  and  her 
first  rise  in  life  took  place  as  follows  : 
When  the  RoUestons  went  to  Aus- 
tralia, she  hati  a  good  cry  at  parting 
with  Helen  ;  but  there  was  no  help 
for  it :  she  could  not  leave  her  moth- 
er. However,  she  told  Helen  she 
could  not  stomach  any  other  service, 
and,  since  she  must  bo  parted,  was 
resolved  to  better  herself.  This 
phrase  is  sometimes  drolly  applied  by 
servants,  because  they  throw  Inde- 
pendence into  the  scale.  In  Nancy's 
case  it  meant  setting  up  as  a  washer- 
woman. Helen  opened  her  hazel 
eyes  with  astonishment  at  this,  the 
first  round  in  the  ladder  of  Nancy's 
ambition ;  however,  she  gave  her  ten 
pounds,  and  thirty  introductions, 
twenty-five  of  which  missed  fire,  and 
with  the  odd  five  Nancy  set  up  her 
tub  in  the  suburbs,  and  by  her  in- 
dustry, geniality,  and  frugality,  got 
on  tolerably  well.  In  due  course  she 
rented  a  small  house  backed  by  a 
small  green,  and  advertised  for  a 
gentleman  lodger.  She  soon  got 
one ;  and  soon  got  rid  of  him. 
However,  she  was  never  long  without 
one. 


184 


FOUL  PLAY. 


Nancy  met  Joseph  Wylie  in  com- 
pany :  anil,  as  sailors  arc  bri^k  woo- 
ers, he  soon  became  her  acknowl- 
edged suitor,  and  made  some  inroad 
into  her  heart,  thougli  she  kept  on 
the  defensive,  warned  by  past  ex- 
perience. 

Wylie's  love-making  had  a  droll 
feature  about  it,  it  was  most  of  it 
carried  on  in  the  presence  of  three 
washerwomen,  because  Nancy  had  no 
time  to  spare  from  her  work,  and 
Wylie  had  no  time  to  lose  in  his 
wooing,  being  on  shore  for  a  limited 
period.  And  this  al)sence  of  super- 
fluous delicacy  on  his  part  gave  iiim 
an  unfair  advantage  over  the  tallow- 
chandler's  foreman,  his  only  riv.d  at 
present.  Many  a  sly  thrust,  and 
many  a  hearty  laugh,  from  his  fe- 
male auditors,  greeted  his  amorous 
elociuence :  but,  for  all  that,  tlicy 
sided  with  him,  and  Nancy  felt  her 
im]5ortance,  and  brightent-d  along 
with  her  mates  at  the  sailor's  ap- 
proach, which  was  generally  an- 
nounced by  a  cheerful  hail.  He  was 
good  company,  to  use  Nancy's  own 
phrase,  and  she  accepted  him  as  a 
sweetheart  on  probation.  But,  when 
Mr.  Wylie  urged  her  to  marry  liini, 
she  demurred,  and  gave  a  string  of 
reasons,  all  of  which  the  sailor  and 
his  allies,  the  subordinate  wash- 
erwomen, combated  in  full  conclave. 

Then  she  spoke  out :  "  ^ly  lad,  the 
wash-tub  is  a  saddle  as  won't  carry 
double.  I  've  .seen  poverty  enough  in 
my  mother's  house,  it  sha'  n't  come 
in  at  my  door  to  drive  love  out  o' 
window.  Two  comes  totrether  with 
just  enough  for  two ;  next  year  in- 
stead of  two  they  arc  three,  and  one 
of  the  three  can't  work  and  wants  a 
servant  extra,  and  by  and  by  thire  is 
half  a  dozen,  and  the  money  coming 
in  at  the  spigot  and  going  out  at  the 
bung-hole." 

One  day,  in  the  middle  of  his 
wooing,  she  laid  down  hor  iron,  and 
said  :  "  You  come  along  with  me. 
And  I  wonder  how  much  work  will 
be  done  whilst  my  back  is  turned,  for 
you   three  gabbling  aud   wondering 


what  ever  I  'm  a  going  to  do  with 
this  here  sailor." 

She  took  Wylie  a  few  yards  down 
the  street,  and  showed  him  a  large 
house  with  most  of  the  windows 
broken.  "  There,"  said  she,  "  there  's 
a  sight  for  a  seafaring  man.  That's 
in  (Chancery." 

"  Well,  it 's  better  to  be  there  than 

in    11 ,"   said  Wylie,  meaning  to 

be  sharper. 

"  Wait  till  you  've  tried  'em  both," 
sail!  Nancy. 

Then  she  took  him  to  the  back  of 
the  house,  and  showed  him  a  large 
garden  attached  to  it. 

"  Now,  Joseph,"  said  she,  "  I  've 
showed  you  a  lodging-house  and  a 
drying-ground  ;  and  I  'm  a  cook 
and  a  clear-starcher,  and  1  'm  wild 
to  keep  lodgers  and  do  for  'em, 
washing  and  all.  Tlien,  if  their 
foul  linen  goes  out,  they  follows  it  : 
the  same  if  they  has  their  meat 
from  the  cook-shop.  Four  hundred 
pounds  a  year  lies  there  a  waiting  for 
me.  I've  been  at  them  often  to  let 
me  them  premises  :  but  they  says  no, 
we  have  got  no  border  from  the  court 
to  let.  Which  the  court  woidd  rather 
sec  'em  go  to  rack  an'  ruin  for  noth- 
ing, than  let  'em  to  an  honest  wo- 
man as  would  pay  the  rent  punctual, 
and  make  her  [lenny  out  of  'em,  and 
nohoily  none  the  worse.  And  to  sell 
them,  the  price  is  two  thousand 
l)oun(ls,  and  if  I  had  it  I  'd  give  it 
this  minit :  but  where  are  the  likes  of 
you  and  me  to  get  two  thousand 
pounds  ?  But  the  lawyer  he  says, 
'  Miss  Rouse,  from  ijon  one  thousand 
down,  and  the  rest  on  murtgige  at 
.£4.'}  the  year,'  which  it  is  dirt  cheap, 
I  say.  So  now,  m^'  man,  when  that 
house  is  mine,  I  'm  yours.  I  'm  put- 
ting by  for  it  o'  my  side.  If  you 
means  all  you  say,  why  not  save  a  bit 
o'  yours  ?  Once  I  get  that  hou^e  and 
garden,  you  need  n't  go  to  sea  no 
more  :  nor  you  sha'  n't.  If  I  am  to 
bi>  bothered  with  a  man,  let  me  know 
where  to  put  my  finirer  on  him  at  all 
hours,  and  not  lie  shivering  and  shak- 
ing at  every  window  as  creaks,  and 


FOUL  PLAY. 


185 


him  out  at  sea.  And  if  you  are  too 
proud  to  drive  the  linen  in  a  lig^lit 
cart,  why,  I  could  pay  a  man."  In 
short,  she  told  him  plainly  she  would 
not  marry  till  she  was  above  the 
world  ;  ami  the  roiid  to  above  the 
world  was  through  that  great  battered 
house  and  seedy  garden  in  Chancery. 

Now  it  may  appear  a  sti'iiui^e  coin- 
cidence that  Nancy's  price  to  Wylie 
was  two  tliousand  pounds,  and  Wy- 
lie's  to  Wardlaw  was  two  thousand 
pounds  :  but  the  fact  is  it  was  a  forced 
coincidence.  Wylie,  bargaining  with 
Wardlaw,  stood  out  for  two  thousand 
pounds,  because  that  was  the  price 
of  the  house  and  garden  and  Nancy. 

Now,  when  Wylie  returned  to  Eng- 
land safe  after  his  crime  and  his  per- 
ils, he  comforted  himself  with  the  re- 
flection that  Nancy  would  have  her 
house  and  garden,  and  he  should  have 
Nancy. 

Butyoung  Wardlaw  lay  on  his  sick- 
bed ;  his  father  was  about  to  return 
to  the  office,  and  the  gold  disguised 
as  copper  was  ordered  up  to  the  cel- 
lars in  Fcnchurch  Street.  There,  in 
all  probability,  the  contents  would  be 
examined  erelong,  the  fraud  exposed, 
and  otiier  unpleasant  consequences 
might  follow  over  and  above  the  loss 
of  the  promised  £2,000. 

Wylie  felt  very  disconsolate,  and 
went  down  to  Nancy  Rouse  depressed 
in  spirits.  To  his  surprise  she  re- 
ceived him  with  more  aifection  than 
ever,  and,  reading  his  face  in  a  mo- 
ment, told  him  not  to  fret. 

"  It  will  be  so  in  your  way  of  life," 
said  this  homely  comforter ;  "  your 
sort  comes  home  empty-handed  one 
day,  and  money  in  both  pockets  the 
ne.Kt.  I  'm  glad  to  see  you  home  at 
all,  for  I  've  been  in  care  about  you. 
You  're  very  welcome,  Joe.  If  you 
are  come  home  honest  and  sober,  why, 
that  is  the  next  best  thing  to  coming 
home  rich." 

Wylie  hung  his  head  and  pondered 
these  words;  and  well  he  might,  for 
he  had  not  come  home  either  so  sober 
or  so  honest  as  he  went  out,  but  quite 
as  poor. 


However,  his  clastic  spirits  soon 
revived  in  Nancy's  sunshine,  and  he 
became  more  in  love  with  her  than 
ever. 

But  when,  presuming  upon  her  af- 
fection, he  urged  her  to  marry  him 
and  trust  to  Providence,  she  laughed 
in  his  face. 

"  Trust  to  himprovidence,  you 
mean,"  said  she ;  "  no,  no,  Joseph. 
If  you  are  unlucky,  I  must  be  lucky, 
before  you  and  me  can  come  to- 
gether." 

Then  Wylie  resolved  to  have  his 
£  2,000  at  all  risks.  He  had  one  great 
advantage  over  a  landsman  who  has 
committed  a  crime.  He  could  always 
go  to  sea  and  find  employment,  first 
in  one  ship,  and  then  in  another. 
Terra  firm  a  was  not  one  of  the  neces- 
saries of  life  to  him. 

He  came  to  Wardlaw's  office  to  feel 
his  way,  and  talked  guardedly  to  Mi- 
chael Penfold  about  the  loss  of  the 
Proserpine.  His  apparent  object  was 
to  give  information  ;  his  real  object 
was  to  gather  it.  He  learned  that  old 
Wardlaw  was  very  much  occupied 
with  fitting  out  a  steamer;  that  the 
forty  chests  of  copper  had  actually 
come  up  from  the  shannon  and  were 
under  their  feet  at  that  moment,  and 
that  young  Wardlaw  was  desperately 
ill  and  never  came  to  the  office.  Mi- 
chael had  not  at  that  time  learned  the 
true  cause  of  young  Wardlaw's  ill- 
ness. Yet  Wylie  detected  that  young 
Wardlaw's  continued  absence  from 
the  office  gave  Michael  singular  un- 
easiness. The  old  man  fidgeted,  and 
washed  the  air  with  his  hands,  and 
with  simple  cunning  urged  Wylie  to 
go  and  see  him  about  the  Pioscrpine, 
and  get  him  to  the  office,  if  it  was 
only  for  an  hour  or  two.  "  Tell  hhn 
we  are  all  at  sixes  and  sevens,  Mr. 
Wylie  ;  all  at  sixes  and  sevens." 

"  Well,"  said  Wylie,  affecting  a  de- 
sire to  oblige,  "  give  me  a  line  to  him  ; 
for  I  've  been  twice,  and  could  never 
get  in." 

Michael  wrote  an  earnest  line  to  say 
that  Wardlaw  senior  had  been  hither- 
to much  occupied  in  fitting  out  the 


186 


FOUL  PLAY. 


Springbok,  but  that  he  was  going  into 
the  books  next  week.  What  was  to 
be  (lone  1 

The  note  was  received ;  but  Arthur 
declined  to  see  the  bearer.  Then 
AVylie  told  the  servant  it  was  Joseph 
■\Vylie,  on  a  matter  (^f  life  and  death. 
"  Tell  bini  I  must  stand  at  the  stair- 
foot  and  hallo  it  out,  if  lie  won't  hear 
it  any  other  way." 

This  threat  obtained  his  admis- 
sion to  Arthur  Wardlaw.  The  sailor 
found  him  on  a  sofa,  in  a  darkened 
room,  pale  and  worn  to  a  shadow. 

"  Mr.  Wardlaw,"  said  Wylie,  firm- 
ly, "you  must  n't  think  I  don't  feel 
for  you ;  but,  sir,  we  are  gone  too  far 
to  stop,  you  and  me.  There  is  two 
sides  to  this  business  ;  it  is  £  150,000 
for  you,  and  ,£2,000  for  me,  or  it 
is — "  "What  do  I  care  for  money 
now?"  groaned  Wardlaw.  "Let  it 
all  go  to  the  Devil,  who  tempted  me 
to  destroy  her  I  loved  better  than 
money,  better  than  all  the  world." 
"  Weil,  but  hear  me  out,"  said  Wylie. 
"I  say  it  is  £150,000  to  you  and 
£  2,000  to  me,  or  else  it  is  twenty 
years'  penal  servitude  to  both  on 
us." 

"  Penal  servitude !  "  And  the  words 
roused  the  merchant  from  his  lethargy 
like  a  showcr-batli. 

"  You  know  that  well  enough," 
said  Wylie.  "  Why,  't  was  a  hang- 
ing matter  a  few  years  ago.  Come, 
come,  there  are  no  two  ways ;  you 
must  be  a  man,  or  we  are  undone." 

Fear  prevailed  in  that  timorous 
breast,  which  even  love  of  money  had 
failed  to  rouse.  Wardlaw  sat  up, 
staring  wildly,  and  asked  Wylie  what 
he  was  to  do. 

"  First,  let  me  ring  for  a  bottle  of 
that  old  brandy  of  yours." 

The  hiandy  was  got.  Wylie  in- 
duccfl  him  to  drink  a  wincglassful 
neat,  and  then  to  sit  at  the  table  and 
examine  the  sailors'  declaration  and 
the  logs.  "I'm  no  great  scholard," 
said  he.  "  I  warn't  a  going  to  lay 
these  Ijcfore  the  underwriters  till  you 
had  overhauled  them.  There,  take 
another  drop   now,  —  't  will  do  you 


good,  —  while  I  draw  up  this  thun- 
dering blind." 

Thus  encouraged  and  urged,  the 
broken-hearted  schemer  languidly 
comjjared  the  seamen's  declaration 
with  the  logs ;  and,  even  in  his  feeble 
state  of  mind  and  body,  made  an  awk- 
ward discovery  at  once. 

"Why,  they  don't  correspond!" 
said  he. 

"  What  don't  correspond  1 " 
"  ITour  men's  statement  and  the 
ship's  log.  The  men  speak  of  one 
heavy  gale  after  another,  in  January, 
and  the  pumps  going ;  but  the  log 
says,  'A  puff  of  wind  from  the  N.  E.' 
And  here,  again,  the  entry  exposes 
your  exaggeration:  one  branch  of 
our  evidence  contradicts  the  other  ; 
this  comes  of  trying  to  prove  too 
much.  You  must  say  the  log  was 
lost,  went  down  with  the  ship." 

"  How  can  I "?  "  cried  Wylie.  "  I 
have  told  too  many  I  had  got  it  safe 
at  home." 

"Why  did  you  say  that?  What 
madness  I " 

"  Why  were  you  away  from  your 
office  at  such  a  time  ?  How  can  I 
know  everything  and  do  everything? 
I  counted  on  you  for  the  head-work 
ashore.  Can't  ye  think  of  any  way 
to  square  the  log  to  that  part  of  onr 
tale  ;  might  paste  in  a  leaf,  or  two, 
eh?" 

"  That  would  be  discovered  at  once. 
Y''ou  have  committed  an  irremedia- 
ble error.  What  broad  strokes  this 
Hudson  makes.  He  must  have  writ- 
ten with  the  stump  of  a  quill." 

Wylie  received  this  last  observa- 
tion with  a  look  of  contempt  for  the 
mind  that  could  put  so  trivial  a  ques- 
tion in  so  great  an  emergency. 

"  Are  yon  quite  sunr  poor  Hu<l- 
son  is  dead  ?  "  asked  Wardlaw,  in  a 
low  voice. 

"  Dead  !  Don't  I  tell  you  I  saw 
liim  die  !  "  said  Wylie,  trembling  all 
of  a  sudden. 

He  took  a  glass  of  brandy,  and 
sent  it  flying  down  his  throat. 

"  Leave  the  jjapcr  with  nie,"  said 
Arthur,  languidly,   aud   tell  Tenfold 


FOUL  PLAY. 


187 


I  'II  crawl  to   the  office  to-morrow.  | 
You  can  meet  me  there ;  I  shall  see 
nobody  else." 

Wyiie  called  next  day  at  the  office, 
and  was  received  by  Penfold,  who 
had  now  learned  the  cause  of  Arthur's 
grief,  and  ushered  the  visitor  in  to 
him  with  looks  of  benevolent  concern. 
Arthur  was  seated  Hke  a  lunatic,  pale 
and  motionless ;  on  the  table  before 
him  was  a  roast  fowl  and  a  salad, 
which  he  had  forgotten  to  eat.  His 
mind  appeared  to  alternate  between 
love  and  fraud ;  for,  as  soon  as  he 
saw  "Wylie,  he  gave  himself  a  sort  of 
shake,  and  handed  Wylie  the  log  and 
the  papers. 

"  Examine  them ;  they  agree  bet- 
ter with  each  other  now." 

Wylie  examined  the  log,  and  started 
with  surprise  and  superstitious  terror. 
"  Why,  Hiram's  ghost  has  been  here 
at  work  ! "  said  he.  "  It  is  his  very 
handwriting." 

"  Hush  !  "  said  Wardlaw  ;  "  not  so 
loud.     Will  it  do  ?  " 

"  The  writing  will  do  first-rate ; 
but  any  one  can  see  this  log  has  never 
been  to  sea." 

Inspired  by  the  other's  ingenuity, 
he  then,  after  a  moment's  reflection, 
emptied  the  salt-cellar  into  a  plate, 
and  poured  a  little  water  over  it.  He 
wetted  the  leaves  of  the  log  with  this 
salt  water,  and  dog's-eared  the  whole 
book. 

AVardlaw  sighed.  "  See  what  ex- 
pedients we  are  driven  to,"  said  he. 
He  then  took  a  little  soot  from  the 
chimney,  and  mixed  it  with  salad  oil. 
He  applied  some  of  this  mixture  to 
the  parchment  cover,  rubbed  it  off, 
and  by  such  manipulation  gave  it  a 
certain  mellow  look,  as  if  it  had  been 
used  by  working  hands. 

Wylie  was  armed  with  these  mate- 
rials, and  furnished  with  money,  to 
keep  his  sailors  to  their  tale,  in  case 
of  their  being  examined. 

Arthur  begged,  in  his  present  afflic- 
tion, to  be  excused  from  going  per- 
sonally into  the  matter  of  the  Proser- 
pine ;  and  said  that  Penfold  had  the 
ship's  log,  and  the  declaration  of  the 


survivors,  which  the  insurers  could 
inspect,  previously  to  tlieir  being  de- 
posited at  Lloyd's. 

The  whole  thing  wore  an  excellent 
face,  and  nobody  found  a  peg  to  hang 
suspicion  on  so  far. 

After  this  preliminary,  and  the  de- 
posit of  the  papers,  nothing  was  hur- 
ried ;  the  merchant,  absorbed  in  his 
grief,  seemed  to  be  forgetting  to  ask 
for  his  money.  Wylie  remonstrated  ; 
but  Arthur  convinced  him  they  were 
still  on  too  ticklish  ground  to  show 
any  hurry  withoitt  exciting  suspi- 
cion. 

And  so  passed  two  weary  months, 
during  which  Wylie  fell  out  of  Nancy 
Rouse's  good  graces,  for  idling  about 
doing  nothing. 

"  Be  you  a  waiting  for  the  plum  to 
fall  into  your  mouth,  young  man"?  " 
said  she. 

The  demand  was  made  on.  the 
underwriters,  and  Arthur  contrived 
that  it  should  come  from  his  fatiier. 
The  firm  was  of  excellent  repute,  and 
had  paid  hitndreds  of  insurances, 
without  a  loss  to  the  underwriters. 
The  Proserpine  had  foundered  at  sea; 
several  lives  had  been  lost,  and  of  the 
survivors  one  had  since  died,  owing 
to  the  hardsiiips  he  had  endured.  All 
this  betokened  a  genuine  calamity. 
Nevertheless,  one  ray  of  suspicion 
rested  on  the  case,  at  first.  The  cap- 
tain of  the  Proserpine  had  lost  a  great 
many  ships ;  and,  on  the  first  an- 
nouncement, one  or  two  were  resolved 
to  sift  the  matter  on  that  ground 
alone.  But  when  five  eye-witnesses, 
suppressing  all  mention  of  the  word 
"  drink,"  declared  that  Captain  Hud- 
son had  refused  to  leave  the  vessel, 
and  described  his  going  down  with 
the  ship,  from  an  obstinate  and  too 
exalted  sense  of  duty,  every  chink 
was  closed  ;  and,  to  cut  the  matter 
short,  the  insurance  monev  was  paid 
to  the  last  shilling,  and  Benson,  one 
of  the  small  underwriters,  ruined. 
Nancy  Rouse,  who  worked  for  Mrs. 
Benson,  lost  eighteen  shillings  and 
sixpence,  and  was  dreadfully  put  out 
about  it. 


188 


FOUL  PLAY. 


Wylie  heard  her  lamentations,  and 
grinned;  for  how  iiis  £2,000  was  as 
jTuod  as  ill  his  poeket,  lie  tlioiiglit. 
Great  was  his  coii>ternation  wiieii  Ar- 
thur told  him  ihat  every  shilling  of 
the  money  was  forestalled,  and  that 
the  entire  profit  of  the  trarisaetion 
was  yet  to  eome,  viz.  by  the  sale  of 
the  gold  dust. 

"  Then  sell  it,"  said  "Wylie. 

"  I  dare  not.  The  affair  must  cool 
down  before  I  can  appear  as  a  seller 
of  gold  ;  and  even  then  I  must  dribble 
it  out  with  great  caution.  Thaidv 
Heaven,  it  is  no  longer  ia  those  cel- 
lars." 

"  Where  is  it,  then  ?  " 

"  That  is  my  secret.  You  will  get 
your  two  thousand  all  in  good  time  ; 
and,  if  it  makes  you  one  tenth  part  as 
wretched  as  it  has  made  me,  you  will 
thank  me  for  all  these  delays." 

At  last  Wylie  lost  all  patience,  and 
began  to  show  his  teeth ;  and  then 
Arthur  AVardlaw  paid  him  his  two 
thousand  pounds  in  forty  crisp  notes. 

lie  crammed  them  into  a  side  pock- 
et, and  went  down  triumphant  to 
Nancy  Rouse.  Through  her  parlor 
window  he  saw  the  benign  counte- 
nance of  Michael  Pentbld'.  He  then 
remembered  that  Penfold  had  told 
him  some  time  before  that  he  was  go- 
ing to  lodge  with  her  as  soon  as  the 
present  lodger  shoidd  go. 

This,  however,  rather  interrupted 
Wylie's  design  of  walking  in  and 
chucking  the  two  thousand  pounds 
into  Nancy's  lap.  On  the  contrary, 
he  shoved  them  deeper  down  in  his 
pocket,  and  resolved  to  see  the  old 
gentleman  to  bed,  and  then  produce 
his  pelf,  and  fix  the  wedding-day  with 
Nancy. 

lie  came  in  and  found  her  crying, 
and  Penfuld  making  weak  efforts  to 
console  her.  The  tea-things  were  on 
the  table,  and  Nancy's  cup  half  emp- 
tier!. 

Wylie  came  in,  and  said,  "  Why, 
what  is  the  matter  novv  ?  " 

lie  s:iid  this  mijihty  cheerfully,  as 
one  who  carried  the  panacea  for  all 
ills  in  his  pocket,  and  a  medicine  pe- 1 


culiarly  suited  to  Nancy  Rouse's  con- 
stitution. But  he  had  not  quite  fath- 
omed her  yet. 

As  soon  as  ever  she  saw  him  she 
wiped  her  eyes,  and  asked  him,  grim- 
ly, what  he  wanted  there.  Wylie 
stared  at  the  reception  ;  but  replied 
stoutly,  that  it  was  ])retty  well  known 
by  this  time  what  he  \vanted  in  that 
quarter. 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Nancy,  "  Want 
will  be  your  master.  Why  did  you 
never  tell  me  Miss  Plelen  "was  in  that 
ship?  my  sweet,  dear  mistress  as  was, 
that  I  feel  for  like  a  mother.  You 
left  her  to  drown,  and  saved  your  own 
great  useless  carcass,  and  drowned 
she  is,  poor  dear.  Get  out  o'  my 
sight,  do." 

"  It  was  n't  my  fault,  Nancy,"  said 
Wylie,    earnestly.     "I  didn't   know* 
wdio  she  was,   and   I   advised   her  to 
come  with  us  ;  but  she  would  go  with 
that  parson  chap." 

"  What  parson  chap  1  What  a 
liar  you  he  !  (She  is  Ward  law's  sweet- 
heart, and  don't  care  for  no  parsons. 
If  you  did  n't  know  you  was  to  blame, 
why  did  n't  you  tell  me  a  word  of 
your  own  accord  ?  You  kep'  dark. 
Do  you  call  yourself  a  man,  to  leave 
mv  poor  young  lady  to  shift  for  her- 
self? •' 

"  She  had  as  good  a  chance  to  live 
as  I  luwl,"  said  Wylie,  sullenly. 

"  No,  she  had  n't ;  you  took  care  o' 
yourself.  Well,  since  you  are  so  fond 
of  yourself,  keep  yourself  to  yourself, 
and  don't  come  here  no  more.  After 
this,  I  hate  the  sight  on  ye.  You  are 
like  the  black  dog  in  iny  eyes,  and 
always  ^yill  be.  Poor,  dear  Miss 
Helen  !  Ah,  I  cried  when  she  left,  — 
my  mind  misgave  me ;  but  little  I 
thoutrht  she  would  perish  in  the  salt 
seas,  and  all  for  want  of  a  man  in  the 
shi|).  If  von  had  gone  out  again  after 
in  the  steamboat,  —  Mr.  Pcniold  have 
told  mo  all  about  it,  —  I'd  believe 
you  weren't  so  much  to  blame.  But 
no;  lolloping  and  lookitig  about  all 
day  for  months  Tiieie  's  my  door, 
Joe  Wylie;  I  can't  cry  comibrtiible 
before  you  as  had  a  hand  iu  drown- 


FOUL   PLAY. 


189 


ing  of  lier.  You  and  me  is  parted 
forever.  I'll  die  as  I  am,  or  I'll 
marry  a  man ;  which  you  ain't  one, 
nor  notliing  like  one.  Is  he  waiting 
for  yon  to  hold  the  door  open,  Mr. 
Pen  fold  ?  or  don't  I  speak  plain 
enough  ?  Them  as  I  gave  the  sack 
to  afore  you  did  n't  want  so  much 
telling." 

"  Well,  I  'm  going,"  said  Wyhe, 
sullenly  ;  tlien,  with  considerable  feel- 
ing, "  This  is  hard  lines." 

But  Nancy  was  inexorable,  and 
turned  him  out,  with  the  £2,000  in 
his  pocket. 

He  took  the  notes  out  of  his  pocket, 
and  fluiig  them  furiously  down  in  the 
dirt. 

Then  he  did  wliat  everybody  does 
under  similar  circumstances,  he  picked 
them  up  again,  and  pocketed  them, 
along  with  the  other  dirt  they  had 
gathered. 

Next  day  he  went  down  to  the 
docks,  and  looked  out  for  a  ship  ;  he 
soon  got  one,  and  signed  as  second 
mate.  Slie  was  to  sail  in  a  fort- 
night. 

But,  before  a  week  was  out,  the 
bank-notes  had  told  so  upon  him,  that 
he  was  no  longer  game  to  go  to  sea. 
But  tiie  captain  he  had  signed  with 
was  a  Tartar,  and  not  to  be  trifled 
with.  He  consulted  a  knowing  friend, 
and  that  friend  advLsed  him  to  dis- 
guise himself  till  the  ship  had  sailed. 
Accordingly  he  rigged  himself  out 
with  a  long  coat,  and  a  beard,  and 
spectacles,  and  hid  his  sea-slouch  as 
well  as  he  could,  and  changed  his 
lodgings.  Finding  he  succeeded  so 
well,  he  thought  he  might  as  well 
have  the  pleasure  of  looking  at  Nancy 
Kouse,  if  he  could  not  talk  to  her. 
So  he  actually  had  the  hardihood  to 
take  the  parlor  next  door ;  and  by 
this  means  he  heard  her  move  about 
in  her  room,  and  cauj^^ht  a  sight  of 
her  at  work  on  her  little  gi-een ;  and 
he  was  shrewd  enough  to  observe  she 
did  not  sing  and  whistle  as  she  used 
to  do.     The  dog  chuckled  at  that. 

His  bank-notes  worried  him  night 
and  day.     He  was  afraid  to  put  them 


in  a  bank ;  afraid  to  take  them  about 
with  him  into  his  haunts  ;  afraid  to 
leave  them  at  home  ;  and  out  of  this 
his  perplexity  arose  some  incidents 
worth  relating  in  their  proper  order. 

Arthur  Wardlaw  returned  to  busi- 
ness ;  but  he  was  a  changed  man. 
All  zest  in  the  thing  was  gone.  His 
fraud  set  him  above  the  world ;  and 
that  was  now  enough  for  him,  in 
whom  ambition  was  dead,  and,  in- 
deed, nothing  left  alive  in  him  but 
deep  regrets. 

He  drew  in  the  horns  of  specula- 
tion, and  went  on  in  the  old  safe 
routine  ;  and  to  the  restless  activity 
that  had  jeopardized  the  firm  succeed- 
ed a  strange  torpidity.  He  wore 
black  for  Helen,  and  sorrowed  with- 
out hope.  He  felt  he  had  offended 
Heaven,  and  had  met  his  punishment 
in  Helen's  death.  Wardiaw  senior 
retired  to  Elm-trees,  and  seldom 
saw  his  son.  When  they  did  meet, 
the  old  man  sometimes  whispered 
hope,  but  the  whisper  was  faint  and 
unheeded. 

One  day  Wardlaw  senior  came  up 
express,  to  communicate  to  Arthur  a 
letter  from  General  RoUeston,  written 
at  Valparaiso.  In  this  letter,  General 
Uolleston  deplored  his  unsuccessful 
search  :  but  said  he  was  going  west- 
ward, upon  the  report  of  a  Dutch 
whaler,  who  had  seen  an  island  re- 
flected in  the  sky,  while  sailing  be- 
tween Juan  Fernandez  and  Norfolk 
Isle. 

Arthur  only  shook  his  head  with  a 
ghastly  smile.  "  She  is  in  heaven," 
said  he,  "and  I  shall  never  see  her 
again,  not  here  or  herciifter." 

Wardlaw  senior  was  shocked  at  this 
speech ;  but  he  made  no  reply.  He 
pitied  his  son  too  much  to  criticise  the 
expressions  into  which  his  bitter  grief 
betrayed  him.  He  was  old,  and  had 
seen  the  triumphs  of  time  over  all 
things  human,  sorrow  included. 
These,  however,  as  yet,  had  done 
nothing  for  Arthur  Wardlaw.  At  the 
end  of  six  months,  his  grief  was   as 


190 


FOUL  PLAY. 


sombre  and  as  deadly  as  the  first 
week. 

But  one  day,  as  this  pale  figure  in 
deep  mourning  sat  at  his  table,  going 
listlessly  and  mechanically  through 
the  business  of  scraping  money  to- 
gether for  others  to  enjoy,  whose 
hearts,  unlike  his,  might  not  be  in  the 
grave,  his  father  burst  in  upon  him, 
with  a  telegram  in  his  han<l,  and 
waved  it  over  his  head  in  triumjih. 
"  She  is  found  !  she  is  found !  "  he 
roai'ed  :  "  read  that !  "  and  thrust  the 
telegram  into  his  hands. 

'J'hose  hands  trembled,  and  the  lan- 
guid voice  rose  into  shrieks  of  aston- 
ishment and  deligiit,  as  Arthur  read 
the  words,  "  We  have  got  her,  alive 
and  well :  shall  be  at  Charing  Cross 
Hotel,  8  p.  M." 


CHAPTER  LIV. 

"Whilst  the  boat  was  going  to  the 
Springbok,  General  Rollcston  whis- 
pered to  Captain  Moreland ;  and 
what  he  said  may  be  almost  guessed 
from  what  occurred  on  board  the 
steamer  soon  afterwards.  Helen  was 
carried  tremliling  to  the  cabin,  and  the 
order  was  given  to  heave  the  anchor 
and  get  under  way.  A  groan  of  dis- 
appointment ran  through  the  ship ; 
Captain  Moreland  expressed  the  Gen- 
eral's regret  to  the  men,  and  divided 
£,  200  upon  the  capstan ;  and  the  groan 
ended  in  a  cheer. 

As  for  Helen's  condition,  that  was 
at  first  mistaken  for  ill  health.  She 
buried  herself  for  two  whole  days  in 
her  cabin  ;  and  from  that  i)lace  faint 
mo;ins  were  heard  now  and  then.  The 
sailors  called  her  the  sick  lady. 

Heaven  knows  what  she  went 
through  in  that  forty-eight  hours. 

She  came  upon  deck  at  last  in  a 
strange  state  of  mind  and  body  :  rest- 
less, strung  up,  alisorljed.  The  rare 
vigor  she  had  a(i|uired  on  the  island 
came  out  now  with  a  vengeance.  She 
walked  the  deck  with  briskness,  and  a 
pertinacity  that  awakened  admiration 


in  the  crew  at  first,  but  by  and  by  su- 
perstitious awe.  I'or,  while  the  untir- 
ing feet  went  briskly  to  and  fro  over 
leagues  and  leagues  of  jjlank  every 
day,  the  great  hazel  eyes  were  turned 
inwards,  and  the  mind,  absorbed  with' 
one  idea,  skimmed  the  men  and  things 
about  her  listlessly. 

She  had  a  mission  to  fulfil,  and  her 
whole  nature  was  stringing  itself  up 
to  do  the  work. 

She  walked  so  many  miles  a  day, 
partly  from  excitement,  partly  with  a 
deliberate  resolve  to  cherish  her  health 
and  strength ;  "  I  may  want  them 
both,"  said  she,  "  to  clear  Robert  Pen- 
fold."  Thought  and  high  purpose 
shone  through  her  so,  that  after  a 
while  nobody  dared  trouble  her  much 
with  commonplaces.  To  her  father, 
she  was  always  sweet  and  filial,  but 
sadly  cold  compared  with  what  she 
had  always  been  hitherto.  He  was 
taking  her  body  to  England,  but  her 
heart  stayed  behind  u])on  that  island  : 
he  saw  this,  and  said  it. 

"  I'orgive  me,"  said  she,  coldly ; 
and  that  was  all  her  reply. 

Sometimes  she  had  violent  passions 
of  weeping ;  and  then  he  would  en- 
deavor to  console  her;  but  in  vain. 
They  ran  their  course,  and  were  suc- 
ceeded by  the  bodily  activity  and 
concentration  of  purpose  they  had  in- 
terrupted for  a  little  while. 

At  last,  after  a  rapid  voyage,  they 
drew  near  the  English  coast ;  and 
then  General  Rollcston,  who  had 
hitherto  spared  her  feelings,  and  been 
most  indulgent  and  considerate,  felt  it 
was  high  time  to  come  to  an  under- 
standing with  her  as  to  the  course 
they  should   both  pursue. 

''  Now  Helen,"  said  he,  "  about  the 
Ward  laws  !  " 

Helen  gave  a  slight  shudder.  But 
she  said,  after  a  slight  hesitation, 
"  Let  me  know  your  wishes." 

"  O,  mine  are,  not  to  be  too  un- 
grateful to  the  father,  and  not  to  de- 
ceive the  sou." 

"  I  will  not  be  ungrateful  to  the 
father,  nor  deceive  the  son,"  said 
Helen,  firmly. 


FOUL  PLAY. 


191 


The  General  kissed  her  on  the 
brow,  and  called  her  his  brave  girl. 
"  But,"  said  he,  "  on  the  other  hand, 
it  must  not  be  published  that  you 
have  been  for  eight  months  on  an 
island  alone  with  a  convict.  Any- 
thing sooner  than  that.  You  know 
the  malice  of  your  own  sex;  if  one 
woman  gets  hold  of  that,  you  will  be 
an  outcast  from  society." 

Helen  blushed  and  trembled.  "  No- 
body need  be  told  that  but  Arthur ; 
and  I  am  sure  he  loves  me  well  enough 
not  to  injure  me  with  the  world." 

"  But  he  would  be  justified  in  de- 
clining your  hand,  after  such  a  revela- 
tion." 

"  Quite.  And  I  hope  he  will  de- 
cline it  when  he  knows  I  love  another, 
however  hopelessly." 

"  You  are  going  to  tell  Arthur 
"Wardlaw  all  that  ?  " 

"  I  am." 

"  Then  all  I  can  say  is,  you  are  not 
like  other  women." 

"  I  have  been  brought  up  by  a 
man." 

"  If  I  was  Arthur  Wardlaw,  it 
would  be  the  last  word  you«should 
ever  speak  to  me." 

"  If  you  were  Arthur  Wardlaw,  I 
shouM  be  on  that  dear  island  now." 

"  Well,  suppose  his  love  should  be 
greater  than  his  spirit,  and  —  " 

"  If  he  does  not  go  back  when  he 
hears  of  my  hopeless  love,  I  don't  see 
how  I  can.  I  shall  marry  him:  and 
try  with  all  my  soul  to  love  him.  I  '11 
open  every  door  in  London  to  Robert 
Penfold  ;  except  one  ;  my  husband's. 
And  that  door,  while  I  live,  he  shall 
never  enter.  0  my  heart;  my 
heart!"  She  burst  out  sobbing  des- 
perately :  and  her  father  laid  her  head 
upon  his  bosom,  and  sighed  deeply, 
and  asked  himself  how  all  this  would 
end. 

Before  they  landed,  her  fortitude 
seemed  to  return ;  and  of  her  own 
accord  she  begged  her  father  to  tele- 
graph to  the  Wardlaws. 

"  Would  you  not  like  a  day  to 
compose  yourself,  and  prepare  for  this 
trying  interview  1  "  said  he. 


"  I  should :  but  it  is  mere  weak- 
ness. And  1  must  cure  myself  of 
my  weakness,  or  I  shall  never  clear 
Robert  Penfold.  And  then,  papa,  I 
think  of  you.  If  old  Mr.  Wardlaw 
heard  you  had  been  a  day  in  town, 
you  might  surter  in  his  good  opinion. 
We  shall  be  in  London  at  seven.  Ask 
them  at  eight.  That  will  be  one 
hour's  respite.  God  help  me,  and 
strengthen  poor  Arthur  to  bear  the 
blow  I  bring  him  !  " 

Long  before  eight  o'clock  that  day, 
Arthur  Wardlaw  had  passed  from  a 
state  of  sombre  misery  and  remorse 
to  one  of  joy,  exultation,  and  unmixed 
happiness.  He  no  longer  regretted 
his  crime,  nor  the  loss  of  the  Proser- 
pine :  Helen  was  alive  and  well,  and 
attributed  not  her  danger,  but  only 
her  preservation,  to  the  Wardlaws. 

Wardlaw  senior  kept  his  carriage  in 
town,  and  precisely  at  eight  o'clock 
they  drove  up  to  the  door  of  the 
hotel. 

They  followed  the  servant  with 
bounding  hearts,  and  rushed  into  the 
room  where  the  General  and  Helen 
stood  ready  to  receive  them.  Old 
Wardlaw  went  to  the  General  with 
both  hands  out,  and  so  the  General 
met  him,  and  between  these  two  it 
was  almost  an  embrace.  Arthur  ran 
to  Helen  with  cries  of  joy  and  admira- 
tion, and  kissed  her  hands  again  and 
again,  and  shed  such  genuine  tears  of 
joy  over  them  that  she  trembled  all 
over,  and  was  obliged  to  sit  down. 
He  kneeled  at  her  feet,  and  still  im- 
prisoned one  hand,  and  mumbled  it, 
while  she  turned  her  head  away  and 
held  her  other  hand  before  her  face  to 
hide  its  real  expression,  which  was  a 
mixture  of  pity  and  repugnance.  But, 
as  her  face  was  hidden,  and  her  elo- 
quent body  quivered,  and  her  hand 
was  not  withdrawn,  it  seemed  a  sweet 
picture  of  feminine  affection  to  those 
who  Invl  not  the  key. 

At  last  she  was  relieved  from  a 
most  embarrassing  situation  by  old 
Wardlaw ;  ho  cried  out  on  this  monop- 
oly, and  Helen  instantly  darted  out 
of  her  chair,  and  went  to  him,  and  put 


192 


FOUL  PLAY. 


up  her  cheek  to'him,  which  he  kissed  ; 
and  then  she  thanked  him  warnilv  for 
his  couratcc  in  not  despairitif^  of  lier 
life,  and  his  goodness  in  sending  out 
a  ship  for  iier. 

Ncnv,  the  fact  is,  she  could  not  feel 
grateful ;  but  she  knew  slie  ought  to 
be  grateful,  and  siie  was  ashamed  to 
show  no  feeling  at  all  in  return  for  so 
inucli ;  so  she  was  eloquent,  and  the 
old  gentleman  was  naturally  very 
much  i)leased  at  first ;  but  he  cangbt 
an  expression  of  pain  on  Arthur's 
face,  and  then  he  stopped  her.  "  My 
deiir,"said  he,  "you  ought  to  thank 
Arthur,  not  me  ;  it  is  his  love  for  you 
wliicli  was  the  cause  of  my  zeal.  "  If 
you  owe  me  anytiiing,  pay  it  to  him, 
for  he  deserves  it  best.  He  nearly 
died  for  you,  my  sweet  girl.  No,  no, 
you  must  n  't  hang  your  head  for 
that,  neither.  What  a  fool  I  am  to 
revive  old  sorrows  !  Here  we  are,  the 
hiippiest  four  in  England."  Then  he 
wliispered  to  her,  "  Be  kind  to  poor 
Arthur,  that  is  all  I  ask.  His  very 
life  depends  on  you." 

Helen  obeyed  this  order,  and  went 
slowly  back  to  Artiinr  ;  she  sat,  cold 
as  ice,  on  the  sofa  beside  him,  and  he 
made  love  to  her.  She  scarcely  heard 
wiiat  he  said  ;  she  was  asking  herself 
how  she  could  end  this  intolerable  in- 
terview, and  escape  her  t'lther's  looks, 
who  knew  the  leal  state  of  her  heart. 

At  last  she  rose,  and  went  and 
whispered  to  him  :  "  My  courage  has 
failed  me.  Have  pity  on  me,  and  get  me 
away.  It  is  the  old  man  ;  he  kills  me." 
General  Kolleston  took  the  hint,  and 
acted  with  more  tact  than  one  would 
have  given  him  credit  for.  He  got  up 
and  rang  the  bell  for  tea  :  then  he 
said  to  Helen,  "  You  don't  drink  tea 
now,  and  I  sec  you  are  excited  more 
than  is  good  for  you.  Yon  had  better 
go  to  bed." 

"  Yes,  papa,"  said  Helen. 
She  took   her  candle,  and,   as  she 
passed  young  Wardlaw,  she  told  him, 
in  a   low  voice,  she  would  be  glad  to 
speak  to  him  alone  to-morrow. 

"  At  what  hotn-  ^  "  said  he,  eagerly. 
"  When  you  like.     At  one." 


And  so  she  retired,  leaving  him  in 
ecstasies.  This  was  the  first  down- 
right assignation  she  had  ever  made 
with  him. 

They  met  at  one  o'clock  ;  he  radiant 
as  the  sun,  and  a  rose  in  his  button- 
hole ;  she  sad  and  sombre,  and  with 
her  very  skin  twitching  at  llie  thought 
of  the  explanation  she  had  to  go 
through. 

He  began  with  amorous  common- 
places ;  she  stopped  him,  gravely. 
"  Arthur,"  s-aid  she,  "  you  and  I  are 
alone  now,  and  I  have  a  confession  to 
make.  Unforiunately,  I  must  cause 
you  pain,  —  terrible  pain.  O,  my  heart 
flinches  at  the  wound  I  am  going  to 
give  yon  ;  but  it  is  my  fate  either  to 
wound  you  or  to  deceive  you." 

During  this  preamble,  Arthur  sat 
amazed,  rather  than  alarmed.  He  did 
not  interrupt  her,  though  she  paused, 
and  would  gladly  have  been  inter- 
rupted, since  an  interruption  is  an  as- 
sistance in  peiplcxities. 

"  Arthur,  we  surt'ered  great  hard- 
ships on  the  boat,  and  you  would  have 
lost  me  but  for  one  person.  He  s;ivcd 
my  life  ajiain  snid  aj:ain  ;  I  saved  Ins 
upon  the  island.  My  constancy  was 
subject  to  trials,  —  C),  such  trials  ! 
So  great  an  example  of  every  manly 
viitue  forever  before  my  eyes  !  My 
gratitude  and  my  pity  eternally  plead- 
ing !  Enghnid  and  you  seemed  gone 
forever.  Make  excuses  for  mc  if  you 
can.  Arthur  —  I  —  I  have  formed 
an  attachment." 

In  making  this  strange  avowal  she 
hung  her  head  and  blushed,  and  the 
tears  ran  down  her  checks.  But  we 
suspect  they  ran  for  him,  and  not  for 
Arthtn-. 

Arthur  turned  deadly  sick  at  this 
tremendous  blow,  dealt  with  so  soft  a 
hand.  At  last  he  gasped  out,  "If  you 
marry  him,  you  will  bury  me." 

"No,  Arthur,"  said  Helen,  gently; 
"I  could  not  marry  him,  even  if  yoti 
were  to  permit  me.  When  yon  know 
more,  you  will  see  that,  of  ns  three  un- 
happy ones,  you  are  the  least  unlmp- 
py.     But,  since  this  is  so,  am  I  wrong 


FOUL  PLAY. 


193 


to  tell  you  the  truth,  and  leave  you  to 
decide  whether  our  engagement  ought 
to  continue  ?  Of  course,  what  I  have 
owned  to  you  releases  you." 

"  Releases  me  !  but  it  does  not  un- 
bind my  heart  from  yours,"  cried 
Arthur,  in  despair. 

Then  his  hysterical  nature  came 
out,  and  he  was  so  near  fainting  away 
that  Helen  sprinkled  water  on  his 
temples,  and  applied  eau-de-cologne 
to  his  nostrils,  and  murmured,  "  Poor, 
poor  Arthur  !  0,  was  I  born  only  to 
afflict  those  I  esteem  ? " 

He  saw  her  with  the  tears  of  pity 
in  her  eyes,  and  he  caught  her  hand, 
and  said,  "  You  were  always  the  soul 
of  honor ;  keep  faith  with  me,  and  I 
will  cure  you  of  that  unhappy  attach- 
ment." 

"  What !  Do  you  hold  me  to  my  en- 
gagement after  what  I  have  told  you  1  " 

"  Cruel  Helen  !  you  know  I  have 
not  the  power  to  hold  you." 

"  I  am  not  cruel ;  and  you  have  the 
power.  But  0,  think !  For  your 
own  sake,  not  mine." 

"  I  have  thought ;  and  this  attach- 
ment to  a  man  you  cannot  marry  is  a 
mere  misfortune,  —  yours  as  well  as 
mine.  Give  me  your  esteem  until 
your  love  comes  back,  and  let  our  en- 
gagement continue." 

"  It  was  for  you  to  decide,"  said 
Helen,  coldly,  "and  you  have  decided. 
There  is  one  condition  I  must  ask 
you  to  submit  to." 

"  I  submit  to  it." 

"  What,  before  you  hear  it  1  " 

"  Helen,  you  don't  know  what  a 
year  of  misery  I  have  endured,  ever 
since  the  report  came  of  your  death. 
My  happiness  is  cruelly  dashed  now, 
but  still  it  is  great  happiness  by 
comparison.  Make  your  conditions. 
You  are  my  queen,  as  well  as  my  love 
and  my  life." 

Helen  hesitated.  It  shocked  her 
delicacy  to  lower  the  man  she  had  con- 
sented to  marry. 

"  O    Helen,"    said  Artliur,   "  any- 
thing but  secrets  between  you  and  me. 
Go  on  as  you  have  begun,  and  let  me 
know  the  worst  at  once." 
13 


"  Can  you  be  very  generous,  Ar- 
thur?—  generous  to  him  who  has 
caused  you  so  much  pain  i  " 

"  I  '11  try,"  said  Arthur,  with  a 
groan. 

"  I  would  not  marry  him,  unless  you 
gave  me  up  :  for  I  am  your  betrothed, 
and  you  are  true  to  me.  I  could  not 
marry  him,  even  if  I  were  not  pledged 
to  you ;  but  it  so  happens,  I  can  do 
him  one  great  service  without  injustice 
to  you  ;  and  this  service  I  have  vowed 
to  do  before  I  marry.  I  shall  keep  that 
vow,  as  I  keep  faith  with  you.  He 
has  been  driven  from  society  by  a  foul 
slander  ;  that  slander  1  am  to  sift  and 
confute.  It  will  be  long  and  difficult ; 
but  I  shall  do  it;  and  you  could  help 
me  if  you  chose.  But  that  I  will  not 
be  so  cruel  as  to  ask." 

Arthur  bit  his  lip  with  jealous  rage ; 
but  he  was  naturally  cunning,  and  his 
cunning  showed  him  there  was  at 
present  but  one  road  to  Helen's  heart. 
He  quelled  his  torture  as  well  as  he 
could,  and  resolved  to  take  that  road. 
He  reflected  a  moment,  and  then  he 
said,  — 

"  If  you  succeed  in  that,  will  you 
marry  me  next  day  ?  " 

"  I  will,  upon  my  honor." 

"  Then  I  will  help  you." 

"  Arthur,  think  what  you  say. 
Women  have  loved  as  unselfishly  as 
this  ;  but  no  man,  that  ever  I  heard 
of." 

"  No  man  ever  did  love  a  woman  as 
I  love  you.  Yes,  I  would  rather  help 
you,  though  with  a  sore  heart,  than 
liold  aloof  from  you.  What  have  we 
to  do  together  ?  " 

"  Did  I  not  tell  you  ?  —  to  clear  his 
character  of  a  foul  stigma,  and  restore 
him  to  England,  and  to  the  world 
which  he  is  so  fitted  to  adorn." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Arthur ;  "  but 
who  is  it  ?  Why  do  I  ask,  though  ? 
He  must  be  a  stranger  to  me." 

"  No  stranger  at  all,"  said  Helen  ; 
"  but  one  who  is  almost  as  unjust  to 
you  as  the  world  has  been  to  him  "  ; 
then,  fixing  her  eyes  full  on  him,  she 
said,  "  Arthur,  it  is  your  old  friend 
and  tutor,  Robert  Penfold." 


194 


FOUL   PLAY. 


CHAPTER  LV. 

Anxnun  Wardlaw  was  thunder- 
struck ;  and  for  some  time  sat  stupid- 
ly staring  at  her.  And  to  this  blank 
gaze  succeeded  a  look  of  abject  terror, 
Avhicli  seemed  to  her  strange  and  be- 
yond the  occasion.  But  this  was  not 
all ;  for,  after  glaring  at  her  with 
scared  eyes  and  ashy  chocks  a  moment 
or  two,  he  got  up  and  literally  stag- 
gered out  of  tlie  room  without  a  word. 

lie  had  heeu  taken  by  surprise,  and, 
for  once,  all  his  arts  had  failed  him. 

Helen,  whose  eyes  had  never  left 
his  face,  and  had  followed  his  retiring 
figure,  was  frightened  at  the  weight 
of  the  hlow  she  had  struck ;  and 
strange  thoughts  and  conjectures 
filled  her  mind.  Hitherto,  she  had 
felt  sure  Robert  Pcnfold  was  under  a 
delusion  as  to  Arthur  Wardiaw,  and 
that  his  suspicions  were  as  unjust  as 
they  certainly  were  vague.  Yet  now, 
at  the  name  of  Robert  Penfold,  Ar- 
thur turned  pale,  and  fled  like  a  guilty 
thing.  This  was  a  coincidence  that 
coniirnied  her  good  ojiinion  of  Robert 
Penfold,  and  gave  her  ugly  thoughts 
of  Arthur.  Still,  she  was  one  very 
slow  to  condemn  a  friend,  and  too 
generous  and  candid  to  condemn  on 
suspicion  ;  so  she  resolved  as  for  as 
possible  to  suspend  her  unfavorable 
judgment  of  Artbur,  until  siie  should 
have  asked  him  why  this  great  emo- 
tion, and  heard  his  reply. 

Moreover,  she  was  no  female  de- 
tective, hut  a  pure  creature  bent  on 
clearing  innocence.  The  object  of 
her  life  was,  not  to  discover  the  faults 
of  Arthur  Wardiaw,  or  any  other  per- 
son, but  to  clear  Robert  Penfold  of  a 
crime.  Y'et  Arthur's  strange  be- 
havior was  a  great  shock  to  her ;  for 
here,  at  the  very  outset,  he  had  some- 
how made  her  feel  she  must  hojie  for 
no  assistance  from  lain.  She  sigind 
at  this  ciieck,  and  asked  herself  to 
whom  she  should  ajjply  first  for  aid. 
Robert  had  told  her  to  sec  his  coun- 
sel, his  solicitor,  his  father,  and  i\[r. 
Undcrcliir,  an  expert,  and  to  sift  the 
whole  matter. 


_  Not  knowing  exactly  where  to  he- 
gin,  she  tliongbt  she  would,  after  .all, 
wait  a  day  or  two  to  give  Arthur 
time  to  recover  himself,  and  decide 
calmly  whether  he  would  co-operate 
with  her  or  not. 

In  this  trying  interval,  she  set  up  a 
diary,  —  for  the  first  time  in  her  life  ; 
for  she  was  no  egotist :  and  she  noted 
down  what  we  liave  just  related,  only 
in  a  very  condensed  form,  and  wrote 
at  the  margin  :  Mijsterious. 

Arthur  never  came  near  her  for 
two  whole  days.  This  looked  grave. 
On  the  third  day  she  said  to  General 
Rolleston  :  — 

"  Papa,  yow  will  help  me  in  the 
good  cause,  —  will  you  not  1  " 

He  replied  that  he  would  do  what 
he  could,  but  feared  that  would  be 
little. 

"  Will  you  take  me  down  to  Elm- 
trccs,  this  morning  '''  " 

"  With  all  my  heart." 

He  took  her  down  to  Elm-trccs. 
On  the  way  she  said  :  "  Papa,  you 
must  let  me  get  a  word  with  Mr. 
Wardiaw  alone." 

"  O,  certainly.  But,  of  course, 
you  will  not  say  a  word  to -hurt  his 
feelings." 

"  O  papa! " 

"  Excuse  me  :  Imt,  when  a  person 
of  your  age  is  absorbed  with  one  ide.a, 
she  sometimes  forgets  that  other  peo- 
ple have  any  feelings  at  all."  ' 

Helen  kissed  him  meekly,  and  said 
that  was  too  true ;  and  she  would  he 
upon  her  guard. 

To  General  Rolleston's  surprise, 
his  daughter  no  sooner  saw  old  Ward- 
law  than  she  went  —  or  seemed  to  go 
—  into  high  spirits,  anil  was  infinitely 
agreeable. 

But  at  last  she  got  him  .all  to  her- 
self, and  then  she  turned  suddenly 
grave,  and  said  :  — 

"  Mr.  Wardiaw,  I  want  to  ask  you 
a  (jucstion.  It  is  something  about 
Roliert  Penfold." 

Wardiaw  shook  his  head.  "  Tliat 
is  a  painful  subject,  my  dear.  But 
what  do  you  wish  to  know  about  that 
unhaj)py  young  man  ?  " 


FOUL   PLAY, 


195 


"  Can  yon  tell  me  the  name  of  the 
counsel  who  defended  liini  at  the 
trial  ?  " 

"  No,  indeed,  I  cannot." 

'•  But  perhaps  you  can  tell  me  where 
I  could  learu  that." 

"His  father  is  in  our  ofBce  still: 
no  doubt  he  could  tell  you." 

Now,  for  obvious  reasons,  Helen 
did  not  like  to  go  to  the  office ;  so 
she  asked  faintly  if  there  was  nobody 
else  who  could  tell  her. 

"  I  suppose  the  solicitor  could." 

"  But  I  don't  know  who  was  the 
solicitor,"  said  Helen,  with  a  sigh. 

"  Hum  !  "  said  the  merchant.  "  Try 
the  bill-broker.  I  '11  give  you  his 
address  " ;  and  he  wrote  it  down  for 
her. 

Helen  did  not  like  to  be  too  import- 
unate, and  she  could  not  bear  to  let 
Wardlaw  senior  know  she  loved  any- 
body better  than  his  son ;  and  yet 
some  explanation  was  necessary  :  so 
she  told  him,  as  calmly  as  she  could, 
that  her  father  and  herself  were  both 
well  acquainted  with  Robert  Penfold, 
and  knew  many  things  to  his  credit. 

"  I  am  glad  to  liear  that,"  said 
Wardlaw  ;  "  and  I  can  believe  it.  He 
bore  an  excellent  character  here,  till, 
in  an  evil  hour,  a  strong  temptation 
came,  and  he  fell." 

"  What !  You  think  he  was  guil- 
ty?" 

"  I  do.  Arthur,  I  believe,  has  his 
doubts  still.  But  he  is  naturally  prej- 
udiced in  ills  friend's  favor :  and,  be- 
sides, he  was  not  at  the  trial ;  I  was." 
■  "  Thank  you,  Mr.  Wai-dlaw,"  said 
Helen,  coldly;  and  witliin  five  min- 
utes she  was  on  her  way  home. 

"  Arthur  prejudiced  in  Kobert  Pen- 
fold's  favor !  "  That  puzzled  her  ex- 
tremely. 

She  put  down  the  whole  conversa- 
tion while  her  memory  was  fresh.  She 
added  this  comment :  "  What  dark- 
ness I  am  groping  in  !  " 

Next  day  she  went  to  the  bill-bro- 
ker, and  told  him  Mr.  Wardlaw  senior 
had  referred  her  to  him  for  certain 
information.  Wardlaw's  name  was 
evidently   a  passport.      Mr.   Adams 


said  obsequiously,  "  Anything  in  tho 
world  I  can  do,  madam." 

"  It  is  about  JNlr.  Robert  Penfold. 
I  wish  to  know  the  name  of  the  coun- 
sel he  had  at  his  trial." 

"  Robert  Penfold  !  What,  the 
forge )•  ? " 

"  He  was  accused  of  that  crime," 
said  Helen,  turning  red. 

"  Accused,  madam  !  He  was  con- 
victed. I  ought  to  know  ;  for  it  was 
my  jiartner  he  tried  the  game  on.  But 
I  was  too  sharp  for  him.  1  had  liim 
arrested  before  ho  had  time  to  melt 
the  notes ;  indicted  him,  and  sent  him 
across  the  herring  pond,  in  spite  of  his 
parson's  coat,  the  rascal !  " 

Helen  drew  back  as  if  a  serpent 
had  stung  her. 

'•  It  was  you  who  had  him  trans- 
ported !  "  cried  she,  turning  her  eyes 
on  him  with  horror. 

"  Of  course  it  was  me,"  said  Mr. 
Adams,  tiring  up ;  "  and  I  did  the 
country  good  service.  I  look  upon  a 
forger  as  worse  than  a  murderer. 
What  is  the  matter?     You  are  ill." 

Tho  poor  girl  was  half  fainting  at 
the  sight  of  the  man  who  had  de- 
stroyed her  Robert,  and  owned  it. 

"  No,  no,"  she  cried,  hastily;  "let 
me  get  away,  —  let  me  get  away  from 
iiere,  — you  cruel,  cruel  man  !  " 

She  tottered  to  the  door,  and  got  to 
her  carriage,  she  scarcely  knew  how, 
without  the  information  she  went  for. 

The  bill-broker  was  no  fool ;  he  saw 
now  how  the  land  lay  ;  he  followed 
her  down  the  stairs,  and  tried  to  stam- 
mer excuses. 

"  Charing  Cross  Hotel,"  said  she, 
faintly,  and  laid  her  face  against  the 
cushion  to  avoid  the  sight  of  him. 

When  she  got  home,  she  cried  bit- 
terly at  her  feiuinine  weakness  and 
her  inca]incity  ;  and  slie  entered  tiiis 
pitiable  failure  in  her  journal  witii  a 
severity  our  male  readers  will  hardly, 
we  think,  be  disposed  to  imitate;  and 
she  added,  by  way  of  comment :  "  Is 
this  how  I  carry  out  my  poor  Robert's 
precept :  Be  obstinate  as  a  man  ;  be 
supple  as  a  woman  1 " 

That  night  she  consulted  her  father 


196 


FOUL  PLAY. 


on  this  difficulty,  so  slight  to  any  but 
an  inexperienced  girl.  He  told  her 
there  must  be  a  report  of  the  trial  in 
the  newspapers,  and  the  report  would 
probably  mention  the  counsel  ;  she 
had  better  consult  a  file. 

Then  the  tiling  was  where  to  find 
a  hie.  Alter  one  or  two  failures, 
the  British  Museum  was  suggested. 
She  went  thitlier,  and  could  not  get 
in  to  read  without  certain  formalities. 
While  these  were  being  com2:)lied 
with,  she  was  at  a  stand-still. 

That  same  evening  came  a  line 
from  Arthur  ^yardlaw  :  — 

"  Dearest  Helen  :  —  I  hear  from 
Mr.  Adams  that  you  desire  to  know 
the  name  of  the  counsel  who  defended 
Robert  Penfold.  It  was  Mr.  Tolle- 
mache.  He  has  chambers  in  Lin- 
coln's Inn. 

"  Ever  devotedly  yours, 
"  Arthur  Wardlaw." 

Helen  was  touched  with  this  let- 
ter, and  put  it  away  indorsed  with 
a  few  words  of  gratitude  and  es- 
teem ;  and  copied  it  into  her  diary, 
and  remarked :  "  This  is  one  more 
warning  not  to  judge  hastily.  Ar- 
thur's agitation  was  probably  only 
great  emotion  at  the  sudden  mention 
of  one  whose  innocence  he  believes, 
and  whose  sad  fate  distresses  him." 
She  wrote  back  and  thanked  him 
sweetly,  and  in  terms  that  encouraged 
a  visit.  Next  day  she  went  to  Mr. 
Tollemache.  A  seedy  man  followed 
her  at  a  distance.  Mr.  Tollemache 
was  not  at  his  chambers,  nor  expected 
till  four  o'clock.  He  was  in  court. 
She  left  her  card,  and  wrote  on  it  in 
pencil  that  she  would  call  at  four. 

She  went  at  ten  minutes  after  four. 
Mr.  Tollemache  declined  through  his 
clerk  to  see  her  if  she  was  a  client ; 
he  could  only  be  approached  by  her 
solicitor.  She  felt  inclined  to  go 
away  and  cry ;  but  this  time  she  re- 
membered she  was  to  be  obstinate  as 
a  man  and  supple  as  a  woman.  She 
wrote  on  a  card  :  "  I  am  not  a  client 
of  Mr.  Tollemache,  but  a  lady  deeply 
interested  in  obtaining  some  informa- 


tion, which  Mr.  Tollemache  can  with 
perfect  propriety  give  me.  I  trust 
to  his  courtesy  as  a  gentleman  not  to 
refuse  me  a  short  interview." 

"  Admit  the  lady,"  said  a  sharp 
little  voice. 

Siie  was  ushered  in,  and  found  Mr. 
Tollemache  standing  before  the  fire. 

"  Now,  madam,  what  can  I  do  for 
you?" 

"  Some  years  ago  you  defended  IMr. 
Robert  Tenfold ;  he  was  accused  of 
forgery." 

"  O,  was  he  ?  I  think  I  remember 
something  about  it.  A  banker's  clerk, 
—  was  n't  he  ?  "  * 

"  O  no,  sir.     A  clergyman." 

"A  clergyman?  1  remember  it 
perfectly.     He  was  convicted." 

"  Do  you  think  he  was  guilty, 
sir  ?  " 

"  There  was  a  strong  case  against 
him." 

"  I  wish  to  sift  that  case." 

"  Indeed.  And  you  want  to  go 
through  the  pajiers." 

"  What  papers,  sir  ?  " 

"  The  brief  for  the  defence." 

"  Yes,"  said  Helen,  boldly,  "would 
you  trust  me  with  that,  sir  ?  O,  if 
you  knew  how  deeply  I  atn  interest- 
ed !  "  The  tears  were  in  her  lovely 
cjes. 

"  The  brief  has  gone  hack  to  the 
solicitor,  of  course.  I  dare  say  he 
will  let  you  read  it  upon  a  jjroper  rep- 
resentation." 

"  Thank  you,  sir.  Will  you  tell 
me  who  is  the  solicitor,  and  where  he 
lives  '! " 

"  O,  I  can't  remember  who  was  the 
solicitor.  That  is  the  very  first  thing 
you  ought  to  have  ascertained.  It 
was  no  use  coming  to  me." 

"  Fori^ive  mc  for  troubling  you, 
sir,"  said  Helen,  with  a  deep  sigh. 

"  Not  at  all,  madam  ;  I  am  only 
sorry  I  caitnot  be  of  more  service. 
But  do  let  me  advi.se  3'ou  to  employ 
your  solicitor  to  make  these  prelimi- 
nary inquiries.  Happy  to  consult 
with  him,  and  reopen  the  matter, 
should  he  discover  any  fresh  evi- 
dence."    He  bowed  her  out,  and  sat 


FOUL  PLAY. 


197 


down  to  a  brief  while  she  was  yet  in 

sight. 

She  turned  away  heart-sick.  The 
advice  she  had  received  was  good  ;  but 
she  shrank  from  baring  her  heart  to 
her  father's  solicitor. 

She  sat  disconsolate  awhile,  then 
ordered  another  cab,  and  drove  to 
Wardlaw's  office.  It  was  late,  and 
Arthur  was  gone  home ;  so,  indeed, 
was  everybody,  except  one  young 
subordinate,  who  was  putting  up  the 
shutters.  "  Sir,"  said  she,  "  can  you 
tell  me  where  old  Mr.  Penfold  lives  ?  " 

"  Somewhere  in  the  subbubs, 
miss." 

"  Yes,  sir ;  hut  where  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  is  out  Pimlico  way." 

"  Could  you  not  give  me  the 
street  1  I  would  bep:  you  to  accept  a 
present  if  you  could." 

This  sharpened  tiie  young  gentle- 
man's wits  ;  he  went  in,  and  groped 
here  and  there  till  he  found  the  ad- 
dress, and  gave  it  her :  No.  3, 
J'airficld  Cottages,  Primrose  Lane, 
Pimlico.  Slie  gave  him  a  sovereign, 
to  his  infinite  surprise  and  delight, 
and  told  the  cabman  to  drive  to  the 
hotel. 

The  next  moment  the  man  who 
had  followed  her  was  chatting  fa- 
miliarly with  the  subordinate,  and 
helping  him  to  put  up  the  shutters. 

"  I  say,  Dick,"  said  the  youngster, 
"  Penfolds  is  up  in  the  market  ;  a 
duchess  was  here  just  now,  and  gave 
me  a  sov.  to  tell  her  where  he  lived. 
Wait  a  moment  till  I  spit  on  it  for 
luck." 

The  agent,  however,  did  not  wait 
to  witness  that  interesting  ceremony. 
He  went  back  to  his  hansom  round 
the  corner,  and  drove  at  once  to  Ar- 
thur Wardlaw's  house  with  the  infor- 
mation. 

Helen  noted  down  Michael  Pen- 
fold's  address  in  her  diary,  and  would 
have  gone  to  him  tliat  evening,  but 
she  was  to  dine  tcte-a-tete  with  her 
father. 

Next  day  she  went  down  to  3 
Fairfield  Cottages  at  half  past  four. 
On  the  way  her  heart  palpitated,  for 


this  was  a  very  important  interview. 
Here  at  least  she  might  hope  to  find 
some  clew,  by  following  out  which 
she  would  sooner  or  later  establish 
Kobert's  innocence.  But  then  came 
a  fearful  thought :  "  Why  had  not  his 
father  done  this  already,  if  it  was 
possible  to  do  it  ?  His  father  must 
love  him.  His  father  must  have  heard 
his  own  story,  and  tested  it  in  every 
way.  Yet  his  father  remained  the 
servant  of  a  firm,  the  senior  partner 
of  which  had  told  her  to  her  face 
Robert  was  guilty." 

It  was  a  strange  and  terrible 
enigma.  Yet  she  clung  to  the  belief 
that  some  new  light  would  come  to 
her  from  Michael  Penfold.  Then 
came  bashful  fears.  "  How  should 
she  account  to  Mr.  Penfold  for  the 
interest  she  took  in  his  own  son,  she 
who  was  affianced  to  Mr.  Penfold's 
employer."  She  arrived  at  3  Fair- 
field Cottages  with  her  cheeks  burn- 
ing, and  repeating  to  herself :  "  Now 
is  the  time  to  be  supple  as  a  woman 
but  obstinate  as  a  man." 

She  sent  the  cabman  in  to  inquire 
for  Mr.  Penfold  ;  a  sharp  girl  of  about 
thirteen  came  out  to  her,  and  told  her 
jNIr.  Penfold  was  not  at  home. 

"  Can  you  tell  me  when  he  will  be 
at  home  1  " 

"  No,  miss.  He  have  gone  to 
Scotland.  A  telegraphum  came 
from  Wardlaws'  last  night,  as  he  was 
to  go  to  Scotland  first  thing  this 
morning ;  and  he  went  at  six 
o'clock." 

"  0  dear !     How  unfortunate  ! " 

"  Who  shall  I  say  called,  miss  ?  " 

"  Thank  you,  I  will  write.  What 
time  did  the  telegram  come  ?  " 

"  Between  five  and  six  last  evening, 
miss." 

She  returned  to  the  hotel.  Fate 
seemed  to  be  against  her.  Baffled  at 
the  very  threshold  !  •  At  the  hotel  she 
found  Arthur  Wardlaw's  card  and  a 
beautiful  bouquet. 

She  sat  down  directly,  and  wrote 
to  him  affectionately,  and  asked  him 
in  the  postscript  if  he  could  send  her 
a  report  of  the  trial.     She  received  a 


198 


FOUL  PLAY. 


reply  directly,  that  he  had  inquired 
in  tlie  office,  Vur  one  of  the  clerks  had 
reports  of  it ;  but  this  clerk  was  un- 
fortunately out,  and  had  locked  up  his 
desk. 

Helen  sighed.  Her  feet  seemed  to 
be  clogged  at  every  step  in  this  in- 
quiry. 

Next  morning,  however,  a  large  en- 
velope came  for  her,  and  a  Mr.  Hand 
wrote  to  her  thus  :  — 

" Madam  :  — 

"  Having  been  requested  by  Mr. 
Arthur  Wardlaw  to  send  you  my  ex- 
tracts of  a  trial,  the  Queen  v.  Pen- 
fold,  I  herewith  forward  the  same, 
and  would  feel  ol)ligcd  by  your  re- 
turning them  at  your  convenience. 
"  Your  obedient  servant, 

"  James  Hand." 

Helen  took  the  enclosed  extracts  to 
her  bedroom,  and  there  read  them 
both  over  many  times. 

In  both  these  reports  the  case  for  the 
Crown  was  neat, clear, cogent, straight- 
forward, and  supported  by  evidence. 
The  defence  was  chiefly  argument  of 
counsel  to  prove  the  improbability  of 
a  clergyman  and  a  man  of  good 
character  passing  a  forged  note.  One 
of  the  reports  stated  that  Mr.  Arthur 
Wardlaw,  a  son  of  the  principal 
■witness,  had  taken  the  accusation  so 
much  to  heart  that  he  was  now 
dangerously  ill  at  Oxford.  The  otiier 
report  did  not  contain  this,  but,  on 
the  other  hand,  it  stated  that  the  pris- 
oner, after  conviction,  had  endeavored 
to  lay  the  blame  on  Mr.  Arthur 
"Wardlaw,  but  that  the  judge  had 
stopped  him,  and  said  he  could  only 
aggravate  his.  offence  by  endeavoring 
to  cast  a  slur  ujitin  the  Wardlaws, 
who  had  both  shown  a  manifest  desire 
to  shield  him,  but  were  powerless  for 
want  of  evidence. 

In  both  reports  the  summing  up  of 
the  judge  was  moderate  in  expression, 
but  leaned  aj^ainst  the  prisoner  on 
every  point,  and  corrected  the  sophis- 
tical reasoning  of  his  counsel  very 
sensibly.     Both   reports  said  an  ex- 


pert was  called  for  the  prisoner,  whose 
ingenuity  made  the  court  smile,  but 
did  not  counterbalance  the  evidence. 
Helen  sat  cold  as  ice  with  the  extracts 
in  her  hand. 

Not  that  her  sublime  faith  was  sha- 
ken, but  that  poor  llobert  appeared  to 
have  been  so  calmly  and  fairly  dealt 
with  by  everybody.  Even  Mr.  Hen- 
ncssy,  the  counsel  for  the  Crown,  had 
opened  the  case  with  humane  regret, 
and  conhned  himself  to  facts,  and  said 
nobody  would  be  more  pleased  than 
he  would,  if  this  evidence  could  bo 
contradicted,  or  explained  in  a  man- 
ner consistent  with  the  prisoner's  in- 
nocence. 

What  a  stone  she  had  undertaken 
to  roll  —  up  what  a  hill  ! 

What  was  to  be  her  next  step?  Go 
to  the  Museum,  which  was  now  open  to 
her,  and  read  more  reports  ?  She 
shrank  from  tiiat. 

"  The  newspapers  are  all  against 
him,"  said  she ;  "  and  I  don't  want  to 
be  told  he  is  guilty,  when  I  know  he 
is  innocent." 

She  now  re-examined  the  extracts 
with  a  view  to  names,  and  found  the 
only  names  mentioned  were  those  of 
the  counsel.  The  expert's  name  was 
not  given  in  either.  However,  she 
knew  that  from  Kobert.  She  resolved 
to  speak  to  Mr.  Hennessy  first,  and 
try  and  get  at  the  defendant's  solicitor 
through  him. 

She  found  him  out  by  the  Law 
Directory,  and  called  at  a  few  minutes 
past  four. 

Hennessy  was  almost  the  opposite 
to  Tollem'ache.  He  was  about  the 
size  of  a  gentleman's  w^ardrobe  ;  and, 
like  most  enormous  men,  good-na- 
tured. He  received  her,  saw  witli  his 
practised  eye  that  she  was  no  common 
person,  and,  after  a  slight  hesitation 
on  professional  grounds,  heard  her 
request.  He  sent  for  his  note-book, 
found  the  cusc  in  one  moment,  re- 
mastered it  in  another,  and  told  her 
the  solicitor  for  the  Crown  in  that 
case  was  Freshfield. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  "  you  want  to 
know  who  was  the  defendant's  solici- 


FOUL  PLAY. 


199 


tor  ?  Jenkins,  a  stamped  envelope. 
Write  your  uame  and  address  on 
that." 

While  she  was  doina:  it,  ho  scratched 
a  line  to  Mr.  Frcshtield,  asking-  him 
to  send  the  required  information  to 
the  enclosed  address. 

She  thanked  Mr.  Hennessy  with 
the  tears  in  her  eyes. 

"I  dare  not  ask  you  whether  you 
think  him  guilty,"  she  said. 

Hennessy  shook  his  head  with  an 
air  of  good-natured  rebuke. 

"  You  must  not  cross-examine 
counsel,"  said  he :  "  but,  if  it  will  be 
any  comfort  to  you,  1  '11  say  this 
much,  there  was  just  a  shadow  of 
doubt,  and  Tollemaciie  certainly  let  a 
chance  slip.  If  I  had  defended  your 
friend,  I  would  have  insisted  on  a 
postponement  of  the  trial  until  this 
Arthur  Wardlaw"  (looking  at  his 
note-book)  "could  be  examined, 
either  in  court  or  otherwise,  if  he 
was  really  dying.  Is  he  dead,  do  you 
know  ?  " 

"No." 

"I  thought  not.  Sick  witnesses 
are  often  at  death's  door  ;  but  I  never 
knew  one  pa=!s  the  threshold.  Ha  ! 
ha !  The  trial  ought  to  have  been 
postponed  till  he  got  well.  If  a  judge 
refused  me  a  postponement  in  such  a 
case,  I  would  make  him  so  odious  to 
the  jury,  that  the  prisoner  would  get 
a  verdict  in  spite  of  his  teeth." 

"  Then  you  think  he  was  badly  de- 
fended 1 " 

"No;  that  is  saying  a  great  deal 
more  than  I  could  justify.  But  there 
are  counsel  who  trust  too  much  to 
their  powers  of  reasoning,  and  under- 
rate a  chink  in  the  evidence  pro  or 
con.  Practice,  and  a  few  back-falls, 
cure  them  of  that. 

Mr.  Hennessy  uttered  this  general 
observation  with  a  certain  change  of 
tone,  which  showed  he  thought  he 
hud  said  as  much  or  more  than  his 
visitor  had  any  right  to  expect  from 
him ;  and  she  therefore  left  him,  re- 
peating her  thanks.  She  went  home, 
pondering  on  every  word  he  had  said, 
and  entered  it  all  in  her  journal,  with 


the  remark  :  "  How  strange !  the  first 
doubt  of  Robert's  guilt  comes  to  me 
from  the  lawyer  who  caused  him 
to  be  found  guilty.  He  calls  it  the 
shadow  of  a  doubt." 

That  very  evening,  Mr.  Freshfield 
had  the  courtesy  to  send  her  by  mes- 
senger the  name  and  address  of  the 
solicitor  who  had  defended  Robert 
Penfold,  Lovejoy  and  James,  Lin- 
coln's Inn  Fields.  She  called  on  them, 
and  sent  in  her  card.  She  was  kept 
waiting  a  long  time  in  the  outer  olKce, 
and  felt  ashamed,  and  sick  at  heart, 
seated  among  yourg  clerks.  At  last 
she  was  admitted,  and  told  Mr.  Love- 
joy  she  and  her  father,  General  Rol- 
leston  were  much  interested  in  a  lute 
client  of  his,  Mr.  Robert  Penfuld ; 
and  would  he  be  kind  enough  to  let 
her  see  the  brief  for  the  defence  1 

"  Are  you  a  relation  of  the  Pea- 
folds,  madam  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Helen,  blushing. 

"  Humph  !  "  said  Lovejoy. 

He  touched  a  hand-bell.  A  clerk 
appeared. 

"Ask  Mr.  Upton  to  come  to  me." 

Mr.  Upton,  the  managing  clerk, 
came  in  due  course,  and  Mr.  Lovejoy 
asked  him  :  — 

"  Who  instructed  us  in  the  Queen 
V.  Penfold  ■?  " 

"It  was  Mr.  Michael  Penfold, 
sir." 

Mr.  Lovejoy  then  told  Helen  that 
she  must  just  get  a  line  from  Mr. 
Michael  Penfold,  and  then  the  papers 
should  be  submitted  to  her. 

"  Yes;  but,  sir,"  said  Helen,  "Mr. 
Penfold  is  in  Scotland." 

"  Well,  but  you  can  write  to  him." 

"No;  I  don't  know  in  what  part 
of  Scotland  he  is." 

"  Then  you  are  not  very  intimate 
with  him  ?  " 

"  No,  sir ;  my  acquaintance  is  with 
Mr.  Robert  Penfold." 

"  Have  you  a  line  from  him  ?  " 

"  I  have  no  luritten  authority  from 
him  ;  but  will  you  not  take  my  word 
that  I  act  by  his  desire  ? " 

"  My  dear  madam,"  said  the  law- 
yer, "  we  go  by  rule.     There  are  cer- 


200 


FOUL  PLAY. 


tain  forms  to  be  observed  in  these 
things.  I  am  sure  your  own  good 
sense  will  tell  you  itwould  be  cruel 
and  improper  of  me  to  submit  those 
papers  without  an  order  from  Robert 
or  Michael  ren(bld.  Pray  consider 
this  as  a  delay,  not  a  refusal." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Helen ;  "  but  I 
meet  with  nothing  but  delays,  and 
my  heart  is  breaking  under  tiiem." 

The  solicitor  looked  sorry,  but 
would  not  act  irregularly.  S])e  went 
home  sighing,  and  condemned  to  wait 
the  return  of  Michael  Penfold. 

The  cab  door  was  opened  for  her 
by  a  seedy  man  she  fancied  she  had 
seen  before. 

Baffled  thus,  and  crippled  in  every 
movement  slie  made,  however  slight, 
in  favor  of  Kobcrt  Tenfold,  she  was 
seduced  on  the  other  hand  into  all  the 
innocent  pleasures  of  the  town.  Iler 
adventure  had  transpired  somehow  or 
other,  and  all  General  lioUeston's 
acquaintances  hunted  him  up ;  and 
both  father  and  daughter  were  courted 
by  people  of  ton  as  lions.  A  ship- 
wrecked beauty  is  not  offered  to  so- 
ciety every  day.  Even  her  own  sex 
raved  about  her,  and  al)out  the  chain 
of  beautiful  pearls  she  had  picked  up 
somehow  on  her  desolate  island.  She 
always  wore  them  ;  they  linked  her  to 
that  sacred  purpose  she  seemed  to  be 
forgetting.  Her  fiither  drew  her  witli 
him  into  the  vortex,  hiding  from  her 
that  he  embarked  in  it  principally  for 
her  sake,  and  she  went  down  the  cur- 
rent with  him  out  of  filial  duty.  Thus 
unfathomal)le  difficulties  thrust  her 
back  from  her  up-hill  task  :  and  the 
world,  with  soft  but  powerful  hand, 
drew  her  away  to  it.  Arthur  brouKht 
lier  a  choice  bouquet,  or  sent  her  a 
choice  bouquet,  every  evening,  but 
otherwise  did  not  intrude  mueii  upon 
her;  and  though  she  was  sure  he 
would  assist  her,  if  she  asked  him, 
gratitude  and  delicacy  forbade  her 
to  call  him  again  to  her  assistance. 
She  ])referred  to  await  the  return  of 
^Michael  renf'old.  She  had  written  to 
Iiim  at  the  office  to  tell  him  she  had 
news  of  his  son,  and  begged  him  to 


give  her  instant  notice  of  his  retura 
from   Scotland. 

Day  after  day  passed,  and  he  did 
not  write  to  her.  She  began  to  chafe, 
and  then  to  pine.  Her  father  saw] 
and  came  to  a  conclusion  that  her 
marriage  with  Arthur  ought  to  be 
hastened.  He  resolved  to  act  quietly 
but  firmly  towards  that  end. 


CHAPTER  LVI. 

Up  to  this  time  Helen's  sex,  and  its 
attributes,  had  been  a  great  disadvan- 
tage to   her.     She  had  been  stopped 
on  the  very  threshold  of  her  inquiry 
by    petty    difficulties   which   a    man 
would  have   .soon   surmounted.     But 
one   fine   day  the  scale  gave  a  little 
turn,  and  she  made  a  little  discoverv, 
thanks  to  her  sex.     Women,  whether 
it  is  that  they  are  born  to  be  followed, 
or   are   accustomed   to    be    followed, 
seem   to   have   eyes   in  the  backs  of 
their   heads,    and    instinct   to   divine 
when  somebody  is  after  them.     This 
inexperienced   girl,   who   had  missed 
seeing  many  things  our  readers  have 
seen,  observed  in  merely  passing  her 
window  a  seedy  man  in  the  court-yard 
of  the  hotel.     Would  you  believe  it, 
she  instantly  recognized  the  man  who 
had  oi>cncd  "her  cab  door  for  her  in  Lin- 
coln's Inn  Fields.    Quick  as  lightning 
it  passed  through  her  mind,  "  Why  do 
I  see  the  same  figure  at  Lincoln's'lnn 
Fields  and  at  Charing  Cross  ? "     At 
various  intervals  she  passed  the  win- 
dow ;    and   twice   slic   saw   the  man 
again.    She  pondered,  and  determined 
to    try   a  little   experiment.      Robert 
Penfold,  it  may  be  remembered,  had 
mentioned    an    expert   as   one  of  the 
persons    she    was    to    see.     She   had 
looked  for  his  name  in  the  Directory; 
but   experts   were    not   down    in    the 
book.     Another  fatality  !    But  at  last 
she   had  found    Undercliff,    a    lithog- 
rapher, and  she  fancied  that  must  be 
the  same  person.     She  did  not  hope 
to  learn  much  from  him ;   the  news- 
pai)ers   said  his  evidence  had  caused 


FOUL  PLAY. 


201 


a  smile.  She  had  a  distinct  object  in 
visiting  him,  the  nature  of  which  will 
appear.  She  ordered  a  cab,  and 
dressed  herself.  She  came  down, 
and  entered  the  cab  ;  but,  instead  of 
telling  the  man  where  to  drive,  she 
gave  him  a  slip  of  paper,  contain- 
ing the  address  of  the  lithographer. 
"  Drive  there,"  said  she,  a  little  mys- 
teriously. The  cabman  winked,  sus- 
pecting an  intrigue,  and  went  off  to 
the  place.  There  she  learned  Mr. 
Undercliff  had  moved  to  Frith  Street, 
Soho,  number  not  known.  She  told 
the  cabman  to  drive  slowly  up  and 
down  the  street,  but  could  not  find 
the  name.  At  last  she  observed  some 
lithographs  in  a  window.  She  let  the 
cabman  go  all  down  the  street,  then 
stopped  him,  and  paid  him  off.  She 
had  no  sooner  done  this  than  she 
walked  very  briskly  back,  and  entered 
the  little  shop,  and  inquired  for  Mr. 
Undercliff.  He  was  out,  and  not  ex- 
pected back  for  an  hour.  "  I  will 
wait,"  said  Helen  ;  and  she  sat  down 
with  her  head  upon  her  white  hand. 
A  seedy  man  passed  the  window  rap- 
idly with  a  busy  air  :  and,  if  his  eye 
shot  a  glance  into  the  shop,  it  was  so 
slight  and  careless  nobody  could  sus- 
pect he  was  a  spy  and  had  done  his 
work  effectually  as  he  flashed  by.  In 
that  moment  the  young  lady,  through 
the  chink  of  her  fingers,  which  she 
had  opened  for  that  purpose,  not  only 
recognized  the  man,  but  noticed  his 
fiice,  his  hat,  his  waistcoat,  his  dirty 
linen,  and  the  pin  in  his  neck-tie. 

"  Ah  ! "  said  she,  and  flushed  to 
the  brow. 

She  lifted  up  her  head  and  became 
conscious  of  a  formidable  old  woman, 
who  was  standing  behind  the  counter 
at  a  side  door,  eying  her  with  the 
severest  scrutiny.  This  old  woman 
was  tall  and  thin,  and  had  a  fine  face, 
the  lower  part  of  which  was  feminine 
enough  ;  but  the  forehead  and  brows 
were  alarming.  Though  her  hair  was 
silvery,  the  brows  were  black  and 
shaggy,  and  the  forehead  was  divided 
by  a  vertical  furrow  into  two  temples. 
Under  those  shaggy  eyebrows  shone 


dark  gray  eyes,  that  passed  for  black 
with  most  people ;  and  those  eyes 
were  fixed  on  Helen,  reading  her. 
Helen's  light  hazel  eyes  returned  their 
gaze.  She  blushed,  and,  still  looking, 
said,  "  Pray,  madam,  can  I  see  Mr. 
Undercliff?  " 

"  My  son  is  out  for  the  day,  miss," 
said  the  old  lady,  civilly. 

"  0  dear !  how  unfortunate  I  am ! " 
said  Helen,  with  a  sigh. 

"  He  comes  back  to-night.  You 
can  see  him  to-morrow  at  ten  o'clock. 
A  question  of  handwriting  ?  " 

"  Not  exactly,"  said  Helen  ;  "  but 
he  was  witness  in  favor  of  a  person  I 
know  was  innocent." 

"But  he  was  found  guilty,"  said  the 
other,  with  cool  keenness. 

"  Yes,  madam :  and  he  has  no 
friend  to  clear  him  but  me  :  a  poor 
weak  girl,  baffled  and  defeated  which- 
ever way  I  turn."     She  began  to  cry. 

The  old  woman  looked  at  her  cry- 
ing, with  that  steady  composure  which 
marks  her  sex  on  these  occasions ; 
and,  when  she  was  better,  said  quietly, 
"  You  arc  not  so  weak  as  you  think." 
She  added,  after  a  while,  "  If  you 
wish  to  retain  my  son,  you  had  better 
leave  a  fee." 

"  With  pleasure,  madam.  What 
is  the  fee  1  " 

"  One  guinea.  Of  course,  there  is 
a  separate  charge  for  any  work  he 
may  do  for  you." 

"  That  is  but  reasonable,  madam." 
And  with  this  she  paid  the  fee,  and 
rose  to  go. 

"  Shall  I  send  any  one  home  with 
you  1 " 

"  No,  thank  you,"  said  Helen. 
"  Why  f  " 

"  Because  you  are  followed,  and 
because  you  are  not  used  to  be  fol- 
lowed." 

"  Why,  how  did  you  find  that  out  ?  " 

"  By  3'our  face,  when  a  man  passed 
the  window,  —  a  shabby-genteel  fel- 
low ;  he  was  employed  by  some 
gentleman,  no  doubt.  Such  faces  as 
yours  will  be  followed  in  London. 
If  you  feel  uneasy,  miss,  I  will  put 
on  my  bonnet  and  see  you  home." 


202 


FOUL   PLAY. 


Helen  was  surprised  at  this  act  of 
substantial  civility  from  the  Gor<roii. 
"  O,  thank  yon/  Mrs.  Undercliif," 
said  she.  "  No,  I  am  not  the  least 
afraid.  Let  tiiem  follow  me,  I  am 
doing  nothing  that  I  am  ashamed  of. 
Indeed,  I  am  glad  I  am  thought 
worth  the  trouble  of  following.  It 
shows  nie  I  am  not  so  thorougldy 
contemptible.  Good  by,  and  many 
thanks.     Ten  o'clock  to-morrow." 

And  she  walked  home  without 
looking  once  behind  her  till  the  Hotel 
was  in  sight ;  then  she  stopped  at  a 
shop  window,  and  in  a  moment  her 
swift  eye  embraced  the  whole  land- 
scape. But  the  shabby-genteel  man 
was  nowhere  in  sight. 


CHAPTER  LVII. 

WiiKN  Joseph  Wylie  disappeared 
from  the  scene,  Nancy  Rouse  made  a 
discovery  which  very  often  follows  the 
dismissal  of  a  suitor,  —  that  she  was 
considerably  more  attached  to  him 
than  she  had  thought.  The  house 
became  dull,  the  suliordinatc  washer- 
women languid  ;  their  tacitiu'nity  irri- 
tated and  depressed  Nancy  by  turns. 

In  the  midst  of  this,  Michael  Pen- 
fold  discovered  that  Helen  had  come 
back  safe.  He  came  into  her  parlor, 
beaming  with  satisfaction,  and  told 
her  of  the  good  news.  It  gave  her 
immense  delight  at  first.  But,  when 
she  had  got  used  to  her  joy  on  that 
score,  she  began  to  think  she  had 
used  Joe  AVylic  very  ill.  Now  that 
Helen  was  saved,  she  could  no  longer 
realize  that  Wylie  was  so  very  much 
to  blame. 

She  even  persuaded  herself  that 
his  disap]>earance  was  tlic  act  of  a 
justly  offended  man  ;  and,  as  he  be- 
longed to  a  class  of  whose  good  sense 
she  had  a  poor  opinion,  she  was  tor- 
mented with  fears  that  lie  would  do 
some  desperate  act,  —  drown  himself, 
or  go  to  sea  ;  or,  worst  of  all,  marry 
some  troUo]).  She  became  very  an.x- 
ious  and  unhappy.    Before  this  mis- 


fortune she  used  to  go  about  singing 
the  first  verse  of  a  song,  and  whis- 
tling the  next,  like  any  ploughboy  ; 
an  eccentric  performance,  but  it  made 
the  house  gay.  Now  both  song  and 
whistle  were  suspended  1  and,  instead, 
it  was  all  hard  work  and  hard  cry- 
ing ;  turn  about. 

She  attached  herself  to  Michael 
Penfold  because  he  had  known  trou- 
ble, and  was  .sym])athetic  :  and  these 
two  opened  their  hearts  to  one  anoth- 
er, and  formed  a  friendship  that  was 
very  honest  and  touching. 

The  scene  of  their  conversation  and 
mutual  consolation  was  Nancy's  par- 
lor; a  little  mite  of  a  room  she  had 
l)artitioned  olF  fiom  her  business. 
"  For,"  said  she  "  a  lady  I  '11  be,  — 
after  my  work  is  done,  —  if  it  is  only 
in  a  cupboard."  The  room  had  a 
rcraarkalily  large  fireplace,  which  had 
ori;:inally  wanned  the  whole  floor, 
but  now  was  used  as  a  ventilator 
only.  The  gas  would  have  been  sti- 
fling without  it.  As  for  lighting  a 
fire  in  it,  that  was  out  of  the  ques- 
tion. 

On  a  certain  evening,  soon  after 
Mr.  Penfold 's  return  from  Scotland, 
the  pair  sat  over  their  tea,  and  the 
conversation  fell  on  the  missing 
sweetheart.  Michael  had  been  think- 
ing it  over,  and  was  full  of  encour- 
agement.    He  said  :  — 

"  Miss  Rouse,  something  tells  me 
that,  if  poor  Mr.  Wylie  could  only 
know  your  heart,  he  would  turn  up 
again  directly.  What  we  ought  to 
do  is  to  send  somebody  to  look  for 
him  in  all  the  sailors'  haunts  :  some 
sharp  fellow  —  Dear  me,  what  a 
knocking  they  keep  up  next  door! " 

"  O,  that  is  always  the  way  when 
one  wants  a  quiet  chat.  Drat  the 
woman  !  I  '11  have  her  indicted." 

"  No,  you  won't,  Miss  Rouse  :  she 
is  a  poor  soul,  and  has  got  no  busi- 
ness except  letting  lodgings  ;  she  is 
not  like  yon.  But  I  do  hope  she 
will  be  so  kind  as  not  to  come  quite 
throu^di  the  wall." 

"Dear  heart!"  said  Nancy,  "go 
on,  and  never  mind  her  noise,  which 


FOUL  PLAY. 


203 


it  is  worse  than  a  horgan  -  grind- 
er." 

"  Well,  then,  if  vou  can't  find  liim 
that  way,  I  say  —  Advertise." 

"  Me  !  "  cried  Nancy,  tnrning  very 
red.  "  Do  I  look  like  a  woman  as 
wonld  advertise  for  a  man  1  " 

"  No  ma'am  :  quite  the  reverse. 
But  what  I  mean  is,  you  might  put 
in  something  not  too  plain.  For  in- 
stance :  If  J.  W.  will  return  to  N.  R., 
all  will  be  forgotten  and  forgiven." 

"  He  'd  have  the  upper  liand  of  me 
for  life,"  said  Nancy.  "  No,  no ;  I 
won't  advertise  for  the  fool.  What 
riglit  had  he  to  run  off  at  the  first 
word  ?  ile  ought  to  know  my  baric 
is  worse  than  my  bite  by  this  time.' 
You  can,  though." 

"  Me  bite,  ma'am  ?  "  said  the  old 
gentleman. 

"  Bite  1  no  :  advertise,  since  you  're 
so  fond  of  it.  Come,  you  sit  down 
and  write  one  ;  and  I  'II  pay  for  it,  for 
that  matter." 

Michael  sat  down,  and  drew  up  the 
following :  "  If  Mr.  Joseph  Wylie  will 
call  on  Michael  Penfold,  at  No.  3 
E.  C,  he  will  hear  of  something  to 
his  advantage." 

"  To  his  advantage  ?  "  said  Nancy, 
doubtfully.  "  Why  not  tell  him  the 
truth  ■?  " 

"  Why,  that  is  the  truth,  ma'am. 
Is  n't  it  to  his  advantage  to  be  recon- 
ciled to  an  honest,  virtuous,  painstak- 
ing lady,  that  honors  him  with  her 
affection  —  and  me  witli  her  friend- 
ship 1  Besides,  it  is  the  common 
form  ;  and  thei'e  is  notliing  like  stick- 
ing to  form." 

"  Mr.  Penfold,"  said  Nancy,  "  any 
one  can  see  you  was  born  a  gentleman  ; 
and  I  am  a  deal  prouder  to  have  you 
and  your  washing  than  I  should  him 
as  pays  you  your  wages  :  pale  eyes,  — 
pale  hair,  —  pale  eyebrows,  —  I  would 
n't  trust  him  to  mangle  a  duster." 

"  O  Miss  Rouse  !  Pray  don't  dis- 
parage my  good  master  to  me." 

"  I  can't  help  it,  sir  :  thought  is 
free,  especially  in  this  here  compart- 
ment. Better  speak  one's  mind  than 
die  o'  the  sulks.     So  shut  your  ear 


when  my  music  jars.  But  one  every 
other  day  is  enough  :  if  he  won't  come 
back  for  that,  why,  he  mast  go,  and  I 
must  look  out  for  another ;  there  's  as 
good  iish  in  the  sea  as  ever  came  out 
of  it.  Still,  I  '11  not  deny  I  have  a 
great  respect  for  poor  Joe.  O  Mr. 
Penfold,  what  shall  I  do !  Oh,  oh, 
oh  !  " 

"  There,  there,"  said  Michael,  "  I  '11 
put  this  into  the  Times  every  day." 

"  You  are  a  good  soul,  Mr.  Penfold. 
Oh  —  oh,  oh  !  " 

When  he  had  finished  the  adver- 
tisement in  a  clerkly  hand,  and  she 
had  finished  her  cry,  she  felt  compara- 
tively comfortable,  and  favored  Mr. 
Penfold  with  some  reflections. 

"  Dear  heart,  Mr.  Penfold,  how  you 
and  I  do  take  to  one  another,  to  be 
sure.  But  so  we  ought :  for  we  ai-e 
honest  folk,  the  pair,  and  has  had  a 
hard  time.  Don't  it  never  strike  yoa 
rather  curious  that  two  thousand 
pounds  was  at  the  bottom  of  both  our 
troubles,  yourn  and  mine  1  I  might 
have  married  Joe,  and  been  a  happy 
woman  with  him  ;  but  the  Devil  puts 
in  my  head  —  There  you  go  again 
hammering  !  Life  ain't  worth  having 
next  door  to  that  lodging-house. 
Drat  the  woman,  if  she  must  peck, 
why  don't  she  go  in  the  churchyard 
and  peck  her  own  grave  ;  which  we 
shall  never  be  quiet  till  she  is  there  : 
and  these  here  gimcrack  houses,  they 
won't  stand  no  more  pecking  at  than 
a  soap-sud.  —  Ay,  that's  what  hurts 
me,  Mr.  Penfold :  the  Lord  had  giv- 
en him  and  me  health  and  strength 
and  honesty  ;  our  betters  had  wed  for 
love  and  wrought  for  money,  as  the 
saying  is ;  but  I  must  go  again  Na- 
ture, that  cried  '  Come  couple  '  ;  and 
must  bargain  for  two  thousand  pounds. 
So  now  I  've  lost  the  man,  and  not 
got  the  monej%  nor  never  shall :  and, 
if  I  had,  I  'd  burn  —  Ah  —  ah  —  ah 
—  ah  —  ah  !  " 

This  tirade  ended  in  stifled  screams 
of  terror,  caused  by  the  sudden  ap- 
pearance of  a  human  hand,  in  a  place 
and  in  a  manner  well  adapted  to  shake 
the  stoutest  laundress's  nerves. 


204 


FOUL  PLAY. 


This  hand  came  through  the  brick- 
work of  the  chimney-place,  and  there 
remained  a  moment  or  two  :  tlicn 
slowly  retired,  and,  as  it  retired,  some- 
thing was  heard  to  fall  upon  the  shav- 
ings and  tinsel  of  tiic  firei)laee. 

Jsancy,  by  a  feminine  impulse,  put 
her  hands  before  her  face,  to  hide  this 
Bupcinatural  hand  ;  and,  when  she 
found  courage  to  withdraw  them,  and 
glare  at  the  place,  there  was  no  aper- 
ture wliatever  in  the  brick-work  ;  and, 
consequently,  the  hand  appeared  to 
have  traversed  the  solid  material,  both 
coming  and  going. 

"  O  Mr.  renfolds,"  cried  Nancy  ; 
"  I 'm  a  sinful  woman.  This  comes 
of  talking  of  the  Uevil  arter  sunset "  ; 
and  she  sat  trembling  so  that  the  very 
floor  shook. 

iMr.  Penfold's  nerves  -were  not 
strong.  He  and  Nancy  both  huddled 
togetiicr  for  mutual  protection,  and 
their  faces  had  not  a  vestige  of  color 
left  in  them. 

However,  after  a  period  of  general 
paralysis,  Penfold  whispered  :  — 

"  1  heard  it  drop  something  on  the 
shavings." 

"  Then  we  shall  be  all  in  a  blaze  o' 
brimstone,"  shrieked  Nancy,  wringing 
her  hands. 

And  they  waited  to  see. 

Then,  as  no  conflagration  took 
place,  Mr.  Penfold  got  up,  and  said  he 
must  go  and  see  what  it  was  the  Jiand 
had  dropped. 

Nancy,  in  whom  curiosity  was  be- 
ginning to  battle  with  terror,  let  him 
go  to  the  liieplace  without  a  word  of 
objection,  and  then  cried  out,  — 

"  Don't  go  anigh  it,  sir ;  it  will  do 
yoii  a  miscliicf ;  don't  touch  it  what- 
ever.    Take  the  tom/s." 

He  took  the  tongs,  and  presently 
flung  into  the  middle  of  the  room  a 
small  oil-skin  jiacket.  This,  as  it  lay 
on  the  ground,  they  both  eyed  like  two 
deer  glowering  at  a  piece  of  red  cloth, 
and  ready  to  leap  back  over  the  moon 
if  it  should  show  signs  of  biting.  But 
oil-skin  is  not  preternatural,  nor  has 
tradition  connected  it,  however  re- 
motely, with  the  Enemy  of  man. 


Consequently,  a  great  revulsion 
took  place  in  Nancy,  and  she  passed 
from  fear  to  indignation  at  having 
been  frightened  so. 

Slie  ran  to  the  fireplace,  and,  putting 
her  head  up  the  chimney,  screamed, 
"  Heave  your  dirt  where  you  heave 
your  love,  ye  Brazen  !  " 

While  she  was  objurgating  her 
neighbor,  whom,  with  feminine  jus- 
tice, she  held  responsible  for  every  act 
done  in  her  house,  Penfold  undid  tho 
l)acket,  and  Nancy  returned  to  her 
scat,  with  her  mind  more  at  ease,  to 
examine  the  contents. 

"  Bank-notes  !  "  cried  Penfold. 

"  Ay,"  said  Nancy,  incredulously, 
"  they  do  look  like  bank-notes,  and 
feel  like  'em  ;  but  they  ain't  wrote  like 
them.  Bank-notes  ain't  wrote  black 
like  that  in  the  left-hand  corner." 

Penfold  explained. 

"  Ten-pound  notes  are  not,  nor 
fives  ;  but  large  notes  are.  These  are 
all  fifties." 

"  Fifty  whats  ?  " 

"  Fifty  pounds." 

"  What,  each  of  them  bits  of  paper 
worth  fifty  pounds  1  " 

"Yes.  Let  us  count  them  ;  1,2,3, 
4,  f),  6,  7,  8,  9,  10,  11,  12,  1.3,  14,  15, 
16,  17,  18,-0  Lord!  — 20.  Why, 
it  is  two  thousand  pounds,  — just  two 
thousand  i)Ounds.  It  is  the  very  sum 
that  luincil  me  ;  it  did  not  belong  to 
me,  and  it's  being  in  the  house  ruined 
my  poor  Robert.  And  this  does  not 
belong  to  you.  Lock  all  the  doors, 
bar  all  the  window-s,  and  burn  them 
before  the  police  come." 

"  Wait  a  bit,"  said  Nancy,  —  "  wait 
a  bit." 

They  sat  on  each  side  of  the  notes ; 
Penfold  agitated  and  terrified,  Nancy- 
confounded  and  perplexed. 


CHAPTER  LVni. 

Punctually  at  ten  o'clock  Helen 
returned  to  Frith  Street,  and  found 
Mr.  Underclirt"  behind  a  sort  of  coun- 
ter, employed  in  tracing  ;  a  workman 


FOUL  PLAY. 


205 


was  seated  at  some  little  distance  from 
him  ;  both  bent  on  tlicir  work. 
"  Mr.  Undercliff  1  "  said  Helen. 
He  rose,  and  turned   towards  her 
politely, — a  pule,  fair  man,   with   a 
keen  gray  eye  and  a  pleasant  voiee 
and  manner  :  "  I  am  Edward  Under- 
cliff.    You  come  by  appointment  ?  " 
"  Yes,  sir." 

"  A  question  of  handwriting  ?  " 
"  Not  entirely,  sir.    Do  you  remem- 
ber giving  witness  in  favor  of  a  young 
clergyman,  Mr.  Robert  Penfold,  who 
was  accused  of  forgery  ?  " 

"  I  remember  the  circumstance,  but 
not  the  details." 

"  0  dear !  that  is  unfortunate,"  said 
Helen,  with  a  deep  sigh ;  she  often 
had  to  sigh  now. 

"  Why,  you  see,"  said  the  Expert, 

"  I  am  called  on  such  a  multitude  of 

trials.     However,  I  take  notes  of  the 

principal  ones.  What  year  was  it  in  1 " 

"In  1864." 

!Mr.  Undercliff  went  to  a  set  of 
drawers  arranged  chronologically, 
and  found  his  notes  directly.  "  It 
was  a  forged  bill,  madam,  indorsed 
and  presented  by  Penfold.  I  was 
called  to  prove  that  the  bill  was  not 
in  the  handwriting  of  Penfold.  Here 
is  my  fac-simile  of  the  Robert  Penfold 
indorsed  upon  the  bill  by  the  prison- 
er." He  handed  it  her,  and  she  ex- 
amined it  with  interest.  "  And  here 
are  fac-similes  of  genuine  writing  by 
John  Wardlaw  ;  and  here  is  a  copy  of 
the  forged  note." 

He  laid  it  on  the  table  before  her. 
She  started,  and  eyed  it  with  horror. 
It  was  a  long  time  before  she  could 
speak.  At  length  she  said,  "And 
that  wicked  piece  of  paper  destroyed 
Robert  Penfold." 

"  Not  that  piece  of  paper,  but  the 
original ;  this  is  a  fac-simile,  so  far  as 
the  writing  is  concerned.  It  was  not 
necessary  in  this  case  to  imitate  paper 
and  color.  Stay,  here  is  a  sheet  on 
which  I  have  lithographed  the  three 
styles  ;  that  will  enable  j'ou  to  follovv 
my  comparison.  But  perhaps  that 
would  not  interest  you."  Helen  had 
the  tact  to  say  it  would.     Thus  en- 


couraged, the  Expert  showed  her  that 
Robert  Penfold's  writing  had  nothing 
in  common  with  the  forged  note.  He 
added  :  "  I  also  detected  in  the  forged 
note  habits  which  were  entirely  al)!>ent 
from  tiie  true  writing  of  John  Ward- 
law.  You  will  understand  there  were 
plenty  of  undoubted  specimens  in 
court  to  go  by." 

"  Then,  0  sir,"  said  Helen,  "  Rob- 
ert Penfold  was  not  guilty." 

"  Certainly  not  of  writing  the 
forged  note.  I  swore  that,  and  I  '11 
swear  it  again.  But  when  it  caine  to 
questions  whether  he  had  passed  the 
note,  and  whether  he  knew  it  was 
forged,  that  was  quite  out  of  my 
province." 

"I  can  understand  that,"  said 
Helen  ;  "  but  you  beard  the  trial ; 
you  are  very  intelligent,  sir,  you 
must  have  formed  some  opinion  as 
to  whether  he  was   guilty  or  not." 

The  Expert  shook  his  head.  "  Mad- 
am," said  he,  "  mine  is  a  profound  and 
difficult  art,  which  aims  at  certainties. 
Very  early  in  my  career  I  found  that 
to  master  that  art  I  must  be  sin- 
gle-minded, and  not  allow  my  ear  to 
influence  my  eye.  By  purposely  avoid- 
ing all  reasoning  from  external  cir- 
cumstances, I  have  distanced  my  com- 
petitors in  expertise  ;  but  I  sometimes 
think  I  have  rather  weakened  my 
powers  of  conjecture  through  disuse. 
Now,  if  my  mother  had  been  at  the 
trial,  she  would  give  you  an  opinion 
of  some  value  on  the  outside  facts. 
But  that  is  not  my  line.  If  you 
feel  sure  he  was  innocent,  and  want 
me  to  aid  you,  you  must  get  hold  of 
the  handwriting  of  every  person  who 
was  likely  to  know  old  Ward  law's 
handwriting,  and  so  might  have  im- 
itated it;  all  the  clerks  in  his  office; 
to  begin  with.  Nail  the  forger;  that 
is  your  only  chance." 

"  What,  sir  !  "  said  Helen,  with 
surprise,  "  if  you  saw  the  true  hand- 
writing of  the  person  who  wrote  that 
forged  note,  should  you  recognize 
hi" 

"  Why  not  1  It  is  difficult ;  but  I 
have  done  it  hundreds  of  times." 


206 


FOUL  PLAY. 


"  Oil !     Is  forfjcry  so  common  ?  " 

"  No  :  but  I  am  in  all  the  eases  ; 
and,  besides,  I  do  a  great  deal  in  a 
business  that  requires  the  same  kind 
of  expertise,  —  anonymous  letters.  I 
dcteet  assassins  of  that  kind  by  the 
score.  A  gentleman  or  lady,  down 
in  the  country,  gets  a  poisoned  arrow 
by  the  j)ost,  or  perhaps  a  shower  of 
them.  They  arc  always  in  disguised 
handwriting  ;  those  who  receive  them 
send  them  up  to  me,  witii  writings  of 
all  the  people  they  suspect.  The  dis- 
guise is  generally  more  or  less  super- 
ficial ;  five  or  six  unconscious  habits 
remain  below  it,  and  often  these  nn- 
disguised  habits  are  tiie  true  charac- 
teristics of  the  writer.  And  I  '11  tell 
you  something  curious,  madam ;  it  is 
quite  common  for  all  the  suspected 
people  to  be  innocent;  and  tlieu  I 
write  back,  '  Send  me  the  handwriting 
of  the  jicople  you  suspect  the  least ' ; 
and  amongst  tbcm  I  often  find  the  as- 
sassin." 

"  O  Mr.  Undercliff,"  said  Helen, 
"  you  make  my  heart  sick." 

"  O,  it  is  a  vile  world,  for  that  mat- 
ter," said  the  Expert ;  "  and  tlic 
country  no  better  than  the  town,  for 
all  it  looks  so  sweet  with  its  green 
fields  and  purling  rills.  There  they 
sow  anonymous  letters  like  barley  : 
the  very  girls  write  anonymous  let- 
ters that  make  my  hair  stand  on  end. 
Yes,  it  is  a  vile  world." 

"  Don't  you  believe  him,  miss," 
said  Mrs.  Undercliff,  appearing  sud- 
denly. Then,  turning  to  her  son, 
"  How  can  you  measure  the  world  ? 
You  live  in  a  little  one  of  your  own, 
—  a  world  of  forgers  and  anony- 
mous writers ;  you  see  so  many  of 
these,  you  fancy  they  are  common 
as  dirt;  but  they  are  only  common 
to  you  because  they  all  come  your 
way." 

''■  O,  that  is  it,  is  it?  "  said  the  Ex- 
pert, doubtfully. 

"  Yes,  that  is  it,  Ned,"  said  the  old 
lady,  quietly  ;  then  after  a  pause  she 
said,  "  I  want  you  to  do  your  very 
best  for  tliis  young  lady." 

"  I  always   do,"   said    the   Artist. 


"  But  how  can  I  judge  without  mate- 
rials ?     And  slie  brings  me  none." 

Mrs.  Undercliff  turned  to  Helen, 
and  said  :  "  Have  you  brought  him 
nothing  at  all,  no  handwritings  —  in 
your  bag  1  " 

Then  Helen  sighed  again.  "  I 
have  no  handwriting  except  Mr.  Pen- 
fold's  ;  but  I  have  two  printed  reports 
of  the  trial." 

"  Printed  reports,"  said  the  Expert, 
"  they  are  no  use  to  me.  Ah !  here 
is  an  outline  I  took  of  the  prisoner 
during  the  trial.  You  can  read  faces : 
tell  the  lady  whether  he  was  guilty  or 
not,"  and  he  handed  the  profile  to  his 
mother  with  an  ironical  look ;  not 
that  he  doubted  her  proficiency  in  the 
rival  art  of  reading  faces,  but  that  he 
doubted  the  existence  of  the  art. 

Mrs.  Undercliff  took  the  profile, 
and,  coloring  slightly,  said  to  Miss 
llolleston  :  "  It  is  living  faces  I  profess 
to  read  :  there  I  can  see  the  move- 
ment of  the  eyes  and  other  things 
that  my  son  here  has  not  studied." 
Then  she  scrutinized  the  profile.  "  It 
is  a  very  handsome  face,"  said  she. 

The  Expert  chuckled.  "  There  's  a 
woman's  judgment,"  said  he.  "  Hand- 
some !  the  fellow  I  got  transported 
for  life  down  at  Exeter  was  an  Ado- 
nis, and  forged  wills,  bonds,  and  pow- 
ers of  attorney  by  the  dozen." 

"  There  's  sometiiing  noble  about 
this  face,"  said  Mrs.  Undercliff,  ig- 
noring the  interruption,  "  and  yet 
something  simple.  '  1  think  him  more 
likely  to  be  a  cat's-paw  than  a  felon." 
Having  delivered  this  with  a  certain 
modest  dignity,  she  laid  the  profile  oa 
the  counter  before  Helen. 

The  Expert  had  a  wonderful  eye 
and  hand  ;  it  was  a  good  thing  for 
society  he  had  elected  to  be  game- 
keeper instead  of  poacher,  detector  of 
forgery  instead  of  forger.  No  photo- 
graf)h  was  ever  truer  than  this  outline. 
Helen  started,  and  bowed  her  head 
over  the  sketch  to  conceal  the  strong 
and  various  emotions  that  swelled  at 
sight  of  the  jxjrtrait  of  her  martyr.  In 
vain  ;  if  the  eyes  were  hidden,  the  ten- 
der bosom  heaved,  the  graceful  body 


FOUL   PLAY. 


207 


quivered,  and  the  tears  fell  fast  upon 
the  counter. 

Mrs.  Undercliff  was  womanly 
enough,  thoin:ii  she  looked  like  the 
late  Lord  Tliurluw  in  petticoats  ;  and 
slie  instantly  aitled  the  girl  to  hide 
her  beating  heart  from  the  man, 
though  that  man  was  her  son.  She 
distracted  his  attention.  "  Give  me 
all  your  notes,  Ned,"  said  she,  "  and 
let  me  see  whether  I  can  make'somc- 
thing  of  them  ;  but  first  perhaps  iSIiss 
llulleston  will  empty  her  bag  on  the 
counter.  Go  back  to  your  work  a 
moment,  for  I  know  you  have  enough 
to  do." 

The  Expert  was  secretly  ghid  to  be 
released  from  a  case  in  which  there 
were  no  materials ;  and  so  Helen 
escaped  unobserved  except  by  one  of 
her  own  sex.  She  saw  directly  what 
]\Irs.  Undercliff  had  done  for  her, 
and  lifted  her  sweet  eyes,  thick  with 
tears,  to  thank  her.  Mrs.  Undercliff 
sniiied  niiteriially,  and  next  these  two 
hidics  did  a  stroke  of  business  in  the 
twinkling  of  an  eye,  and  without  a 
word  spoken,  whereof  anon.  Helen 
being  once  more  composed,  Mrs.  Un- 
dercliff took  up  the  prayer-book,  and 
asked  her  with  some  curiosity  what 
could  1)0  in  that. 

"  0,"  said  Helen,  "only  some  writ- 
ing of  Mr.  Penfold.  Mr.  Undercliff 
does  not  want  to  see  that ;  he  is 
already  sure  Robert  Penfold  never 
wrote  that  wicked  thing." 

"  Yes,  but  I  should  like  to  see  some 
more  of  his  handwriting,  for  all  that," 
said  the  Expert,  looking  suddenly  up. 

"  But  it  is  only  in  pencil." 

"  Never  mind  ;  you  need  not  fear  I 
shall  alter  my  opinion." 

Helen  colored  high.  "  You  are 
right;  and  I  should  disgrace  my  good 
cause  by  withholding  anything  from 
your  inspection.  There,  sir."  And 
she  opened  the  prayer-book,  and  laid 
Cooper's  dying  words  before  the  Ex- 
pert ;  he  glanced  over  them  with  an 
eye  Hke  a  bird,  and  compared  them 
with  his  notes. 

'■'  Y'es,"  said  he,  "  that  is  Robert 
Penfold's   writing ;  and  I  say   again 


that  hand  never  wrote  the  forged 
note." 

"  Let  me  see  that,"  said  Mrs.  Un- 
dercliff. 

"  O  yes,"  said  Helen,  rather  irres- 
olutely ;  "  but  you  look  into  the 
things  as  well  as  the  writing,  and  I 
promised  papa  —  " 

"  Can't  you  trust  me  ?  "  said  Mrs. 
Undercliff,  turning  suddenly  cold  and 
a  little  suspicious. 

"  O  yes,  madam ;  and  indeed  I 
have  nothing  to  reproach  myself  with. 
But  my  papa  is  anxious.  However, 
I  am  sure  you  are  my  friend  ;  and  all 
I  ask  is  that  you  will  never  mention  to 
a  soul  what  you  read  there." 

"  I  promise  that,"  said  the  elder 
lady,  and  instantly  bent  her  black 
brows  upon  the  writing.  And,  as  she 
did  so,  Helen  observed  her  counte- 
nance rise,  as  a  face  is  very  apt  to  do 
when  its  owner  enters  on  congenial 
work. 

"  You  would  have  made  a  great 
mistake  to  keep  this  from  me,"  said 
she,  gravely.  Then  she  pondered 
profoundly;  then  she  turned  to  her 
son  and  said,  "  Why,  Edward,  this  is 
the  very  young  lady  who  was  Avrecked 
in  the  Pacific  Ocean,  and  cast  on  a 
desolate  island.  We  have  all  read 
about  you  in  the  papers,  miss  ;  and  I 
felt  for  3'ou,  for  one,  but,  of  course, 
not  as  I  do  now  I  have  seen  you. 
You  must  let  me  go  into  this  with 
you." 

"  Ah,  if  you  would  I  "  said  Helen. 
"  0  madam,  I  have  gone  through  tor- 
tures already  for  want  of  somebody 
of  my  own  sex  to  keep  me  in  counte- 
nance !  O,  if  you  could  have  seen 
how  I  have  been  received,  with  what 
cold  looks,  and  sometimes  with  im- 
pertinent stares,  before  I  could  even 
penetrate  into  the  region  of  those  cold 
looks  and  petty  formalities  !  Any  mis- 
erable straw  was  excuse  enough  to 
stop  me  on  my  errand  of  justice  and 
mercy  and  gratitude." 

"  Gratitude  "? " 

"  O  yes,  madam.  The  papers  have 
only  told  you  that  I  was  shipwrecked 
and  cast  away.     They  don't  tell  -you 


208 


FOUL  PLAY. 


that  Robert  Pcnfold  warned  me  the 
ship  was  to  be  destroyed,  and  I  disl)e- 
lieved  and  aifronted  liim  in  return,  and 
he  never  reproached  nie,  not  even  by 
a  look.  And  we  were  in  a  boat  witli 
the  sailors  all  starved — not  hungry  : 
Starved  —  and  mad  with  thirst,  and 
yet  in  his  own  a;^ony  lie  hid  some- 
tbinn;  for  me  to  eat.  All  his  thouo;ht, 
all  his  fear,  was  for  me.  Such  things 
are  not  done  in  those  g-reat  extremi- 
ties of  the  poor,  vulgar,  suffering  body, 
except  by  angels  in  whom  the  soul 
rises  above  the  flesh.  And  he  is  such 
an  angel.  I  have  had  a  knife  lifted 
over  me  to  kill  me,  madam,  —  yes: 
and  again  it  was  he  who  saved  me. 
I  owe  my  life  to  him  on  the  island 
over  and  over  again  ;  and  in  return  I 
have  promised  to  give  him  back  his 
honor,  that  he  values  far  more  than 
life,  as  all  such  noble  spirits  do.  Ah, 
my  poor  martyr,  how  feebly  I  plead 
your  cause  !  O  help  mc  !  pray,  pray, 
help  me  !  All  is  so  dark,  and  I  so 
weak,  so  weak."  Again  the  loving 
eyes  streamed  ;  and  this  time  not  an 
ej'e  was  dry  in  the  little  shop. 

The  I'jxpert  flung  down  his  tracing 
with  something  between  a  groan  and 
a  curse.  "  Who  can  do  tliat  drudg- 
ery," he  cried,  "  whilst  the  poor  young 
lady —  JMother,  you  take  it  in  hand  ; 
find  me  some  material,  though  it  is  no 
bigger  than  a  fly's  foot,  give  me  but  a 
clew  no  thicker  than  a  spider's  web, 
and  I  '11  follow  it  through  the  whole 
labyrinth.  But  you  see  I  'm  impo- 
tent ;  there  's  no  basis  for  me.  It  is  a 
case  for  you.  It  wants  a  shrewd,  sa- 
gacious hody  that  can  read  facts  and 
faces;  and —  I  won't  jest  any  more. 
Miss  Rolk'ston,  for  you  are  deeply  in 
earnest.  Well,  then,  she  really  is  a 
woman  with  a  wonderful  insight  into 
facts  and  faces.  She  has  got  a  M'ay 
of  reading  them  as  I  read  handwrit- 
ing ;  and  she  must  have  taken  a  great 
fancy  to  you,  for  as  a  rule  she  never 
does  us  the  honor  to  meddle." 

"  Have  you  taken  a  fancy  to  me, 
madam  ?  "  said  Helen,  modestly  and 
tenderly,  yet  half  archly. 

"  That  I   have,"    said    the  other. 


"  Those  eyes  of  yours  went  straight 
into  my  heart  last  night,  or  I  should 
not  be  here  this  morning.  That  is 
partly  owing  to  my  own  eyes  being 
so  dark  and  yours  the  loveliest  hazel. 
It  is  twenty  years  since  eyes  like  yours 
have  gazed  into  mine.  Diamonds  are 
not  half  so  rare,  nor  a  tenth  part  so 
lovely,  to  my  fancy."  She  turned  her 
head  away,  melted  probably  by  some 
tender  reminiscence.  It  was  only  for 
a  moment.  She  turned  round  again, 
and  said  quietly  :  "  Yes,  Ned,  I  should 
like  to  try  what  I  can  do  ;  I  think  you 
said  these  are  reports  of  his  trial.  1  '11 
begin  by  reading  them." 

She  read  them  both  very  slowly  and 
carefully,  and  her  fiice  grew  like  a 
judge's,  and  Helen  watched  each  shade 
of  expression  with  deep  anxiety. 

That  powerful  countenance  showed 
alacrity  and  hope  at  first :  then  doubt 
and  difficulty,  and  at  last  dejection. 
Helen's  heart  turned  cold,  and  for  the 
first  time  she  began  to  despair.  ¥ov 
now  a  shrewd  person,  with  a  plain 
prejudice  in  her  favor  and  Robert's, 
was  staggered  by  the  simple  facts  of 
the  trial. 


CHAPTER  LIX. 

Mrs.  Undercliff,  having  read  the 
reports,  avoided  Helen's  eye  (another 
bad  sign).  She  turned  to  Mr.  Under- 
cliff, and,  probably  because  the  perusal 
of  the  reports  had  disappointed  her, 
said,  almost  angrily  :  "  Edward,  what 
did  you  say  to  make  them  laugh  at 
that  trial  1  Both  these  papers  say  that 
'  an  Expert  was  called,  Avhose  inge- 
nuity made  the  court  smile,  but  did 
not  counterbalance  the  evidence.'  " 

"  Why,  that  is  a  falsehood  on  the 
face  of  it,"  said  the  Expert,  turning 
red.  "I  was  called  simply  and  solely 
to  prove  Penfbld  did  not  write  the 
forged  note  ;  I  )iroved  it  to  the  judge's 
satisfaction,  and  he  directed  the  jiris- 
oner  to  be  acfiuitted  on  that  count. 
Miss  Rolleston,  the  lawyers  often  do 
sneer  at  experts ;  but  then  four  ex- 
perts out  of  five  are  rank  impostors, 


FOUL  PLAY. 


209 


a  set  of  theorists,  who  go  by  arbitrary 
rules  framed  in  the  closet,  and  not  hy 
lars^e  and  laborious  comparison  with 
indisputable  documents.  These  char- 
latans arc  not  aware  that  five  tliousand 
cramped  and  tremulous,  but  genuine, 
signatures  are  written  every  day  by 
honest  men,  and  so  they  denounce 
every  cramped  or  tremulous  writing 
as  a  forgery.  The  varieties  in  a  man's 
writing,  caused  by  his  writing  with  his 
glove  on  or  off,  with  a  quill  or  a  bad 
steel  pen,  drunk  or  sober,  calm  or 
agitated,  in  full  daylight  or  dusk, 
etc.,  etc.,  all  this  is  a  dead  letter  to 
them,  and  they  Iiave  a  bias  towards 
suspicion  of  forgery  ;  and  a  banker's 
clerk,  with  his  mere  general  impres- 
sion, is  better  evidence  than  they  are. 
But  I  am  an  artist  of  a  very  different 
stamp.  I  never  reason  a  priori.  I 
compare  ;  and  I  have  no  bias.  I  never 
will  have.  Tiie  judges  know  this  and 
the  pains  and  labor  I  take  to  be  right, 
and  they  treat  me  with  courtesy.  At 
Penfold's  trial  tlie  matter  was  easy  ; 
I  showed  the  court  he  had  not  written 
the  note,  and  my  evidence  crushed  the 
indictment  so  far.  How  could  they 
have  laughed  at  my  testimony  ?  Why, 
they  acted  upon  it.  Those  reports  are 
not  worth  a  straw.  What  journals 
were  they  cut  out  of?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Helen. 

"Is  there  notliing  on  the  upper 
margin  to  show  'i  " 

"No." 

"  What,  not  on  either  of  them  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Show  them  me,  please.  This  is 
a  respectable  paper  too :  the  Daily 
News. 

"  0  Mr.  Undercliff,  how  can  you 
know  that  1  " 

"  I  don't  knoiv  it ;  but  I  think  so, 
because  the  type  and  paper  are  like 
that  journal  ;  the  conductors  are  fond 
of  clean  type ;  so  am  I.  AVhy,  here 
is  another  misstatement;  the  judge 
never  said  he  aggravated  his  ott'ence 
by  trying  to  cast  a  slur  upon  the 
Wardlaws.  I'll  swear  the  judge 
never  said  a  syllable  of  the  kind. 
What  he  said  was,  '  You  can  speak  in 
14 


arrest  of  judgment  on  grounds  of  law, 
but  you  must  not  impugn  the  verdict 
witii  facts.'  That  w;is  the  only  lime 
he  spoke  to  the  prisoner  at  all.  These 
reports  are  not  worth  a  button." 

Helen  lifted  up  her  hands  and  eyes 
in  despair.  "  Where  shall  I  tind  the 
trutii  1 "  said  she.  "  The  world  is  a 
quicksand." 

"  My  dear  young  lady,"  said  Mrs. 
Undereliff,  "  don't  you  be  discour- 
aged :  there  must  be  a  correct  report 
in  some  paper  or  other." 

"  I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,"  said  Un- 
dereliff. "  I  believe  the  reporters 
trundle  off  to  the  nearest  public-house 
together,  and  light  their  pipes  with 
their  notes,  and  settle  something  or 
other  by  memory.  Indeed  they  liave 
reached  a  pitch  of  inaccuracy  that 
could  not  be  attained  without  co- 
operation. Independent  liars  contra- 
dict each  other :  but  these  ciiaps 
follow  one  another  in  falsehood,  like 
geese  toddling  after  one  another 
across  a  common." 

"  Come,  come,"  said  Mrs.  Under- 
eliff, "  if  you  can't  help  us,  don't  hurt 
us.  We  don't  want  a  man  to  talk 
yellow  jaundice  to  us.  Miss  RoUes- 
ton  must  employ  somebody  to  read 
all  the  other  papers,  and  compare  the 
reports  with  these." 

"  I  '11  employ  nobody  but  myself," 
said  Helen  "  I  '11  go  to  the  British 
Museum  directly." 

"  The  Museum  ! "  cried  Mr.  Un- 
dereliff, looking  with  surprise.  "  Why, 
they  will  be  half  an  hour  groping  for 
a  copy  of  the  Times.  No,  no ;  go  to 
Peele's  Coffee-House.  He  directed  her 
where  to  tind  that  place  ;  and  she  was 
so  eager  to  do  something  for  Robert, 
however  small,  that  she  took  up  her 
bag  directly,  and  put  up  the  prayer- 
book,  and  was  going  to  ask  for  her 
extracts,  when  she  observed  Mr.  Un- 
dereliff was  scrutinizing  them  with 
great  interest,  so  she  thought  she 
would  leave  them  with  him  ;  but,  on 
looking  more  closely,  she  found  that 
he  was  examining,  not  the  reports, 
but  the  advertisements  and  miscel- 
lanea on  the  reverse  side. 


210 


FOUL  PLAY. 


She  waited  out  of  politeness,  but 
she  colored  and  bit  her  lip.  She 
could  not  help  feelinj;  hurt  and  in- 
dlfjnant.  "  Any  trash  is  more  inter- 
estinp:  to  people  than  poor  Robert's 
case,"  she  thought.  And  at  last  she 
said  liitterly :  — 

"  Those  aclcertisemmis  seem  to  in- 
terest you,  sir ;  shall  I  leave  them 
with  you  ■?  " 

"  If  you  please,"  said  the  Expert, 
over  wiiose  head,  bent  in  dogged 
scrutiny,  this  small  thunderbolt  of 
feminine  wrath  ])assed  unconscious. 

Helen  drove  away  to  Pccle's  Colfee- 
Housc. 

Mrs.  UndcrclifF  pondered  over  the 
facts  that  had  been  elicited  in  this 
conversation  ;  the  Expert  remained 
absorbed  in  tiie  advertisements  at  the 
back  of  Helen's  reports. 

Wiien  he  had  examined  every  one 
of  them  minutely,  he  held  the  entire 
extracts  up  to  the  light,  and  looked 
through  them  ;  tlien  he  stuck  a  double 
niagniher  in  his  eye,  and  looked 
through  them  with  that.  Tiien  lie 
took  two  ])ieees  of  card,  wrote  on 
them  Be  Tenfold,  and  looked  about 
for  his  other  materials,  to  put  them 
all  neatly  together.  Lo  !  tiie  profile 
of  Robert  Penfold  was  gone. 

"  Now  th.it  is  too  bad,"  said  he. 
"  So  much  for  her  dovelikc  eyes,  that 
you  admired  so.  Miss  Innocence  has 
stolen  that  profile." 

"  Stolen  !  she  bought  it  —  of  me." 
"  Why,  she  never  said  a  word." 
"  No ;"  but  she  looked  a  look.  She 
asked  me,  with  those  sweet  im])loring 
eyes,  might  she  have  it ;  and  1  looked 
yes  :  tiien  she  glanced  towards  you, 
and  put  down  a  note.     Here  it  is." 

"  Why,  you  beat  the  telegraph, 
vou  two  !  Ten  pounds  for  that  thing ! 
1  must  make  it  up  to  her  some- 
how." 

"  I  wish  you  could.  Poor  girl, 
she  is  a  lady  every  inch.  But  she  is 
in  love  with  that  Penfold.  1  'm  afraid 
it  is  a  hopeless  case." 

"  I  have  seen  a  plainer.  But  liope- 
less  it  is  not.  However,  you  work 
your  way,  and  I  '11  work  mine." 


"  But    j'ou   can't  ;    you    have  no 
materials." 

"  No  ;  but  I  have  found  a  door  that 
may  lead  to  materials." 

Having  delivered  himself  thus  mys- 
teriously, he  shut  himself  up  in  obsti- 
nate silence  until  Helen  Rollcston 
called  again,  two  days  afterwards. 
She  brought  a  bag  full  of  manuscript 
this  time  :  to  wit,  copies  in  her  own 
handwriting  of  eight  reports,  the 
Queen  v.  Penfold.  She  was  in  good 
spirits,  and  told  Mrs.  Underclitf  that 
all  the  re])orts  were  somewhat  more 
invorablc  than  the  two  she  had  left ; 
and  she  was  beginning  to  tell  Mr. 
UndcrclifF  he  was  quite  right  in  his 
recollection,  when  he  intcrru])ted  her, 
and  said,  "All  that  is  secondary  now. 
Have  you  any  objection  to  answer  me 
a  question "?  " 

She  colored ;  but  said,  "  0  no. 
Ask  me  anything  you  like  "  ;  then 
she  blushed  deeper. 

"  How  did  you  become  possessed 
of  those  two  reports  you  left  with  mc 
the  other  day  ?  " 

At  this  question,  so  diirerent 
from  what  she  feared,  Helen  cleared 
up  and  smiled,  and  said,  "  From  a 
:Mr.  Hand,  a  clerk  in  Mr.  Wardlaw's 
office  ;  they  were  sent  me  at  my  re- 
quest." 

The  Expert  seemed  pleased  at  this 
reply  ;  his  brow  cleared,  and  he  said  : 
"  Then  I  don't  mind  telling  you  that 
those  two  reports  will  bring  Penfold's 
case  within  my  province.  To  speak 
plainly.  Miss  KoUeston,  your  news- 
paper extracts  —  are  Forgeries." 


CHAPTER  LX. 

"  Forgeries  !  "  cried  Helen,  with 
innocent  horror. 

"  Raxk  Forgeries,"  repeated  the 
Expert,  coolly. 

"  Forgeries" !  "  cried  Helen.  "  Why, 
how  can  ])rintcd  things  be  that  ?  " 

"  Tliat  is  what  I  should  like  to 
know,"  said  the  old  lady. 

"  Why,   what    else   can    you   call 


FOUL  PLAY. 


211 


theml"  said  the  Expert.  "They 
are  got  up  to  look  like  extracts  frona 
newspapers.  But  they  were  printed 
as  they  are,  and  were  never  in  any 
journal.  Shall  I  tell  you  how  I  found 
that  out  ?  " 

"  If  you  please,  sir,"  said  Helen. 

"  Well,  then,  I  looked  at  the  re- 
verse side,  and  I  found  seven  mis- 
prints in  one  slip,  and  five  in  the 
other.  That  was  a  great  number  to 
creep  into  printed  slips  of  that  length. 
The  trial  part  did  not  show  a  single 
erratum.  '  Hullo  !  '  said  I  to  ni}-- 
self;  'why,  one  side  is  printed  more 
carefully  than  the  other.'  And 
that  was  not  natural.  The  printing 
of  advertisements  is  looked  after 
quite  as  sharply  as  any  other  part 
in  a  joui-nal.  Why,  the  advertisers 
themselves  cry  out  if  they  are  mis- 
printed ! " 

"  0,  how  shrewd ! "  cried  Helen. 

"  Child's  play,"  said  the  Expert. 
"  Well,  from  that  blot  I  went  on.  I 
looked  at  the  edges,  and  they  were 
cut  too  clean.  A  gentleman  with  a 
pair  of  scissors  can't  cut  slips  out  of 
a  paper  like  this.  They  were  cut  in 
the  printer's  office.  Lastly,  on  holding 
them  to  the  light,  I  found  they  had 
not  been  machined  upon  the  plan 
now  adopted  by  all  newspapers  ;  but 
worked  by  hand.  In  one  word  — 
forgeries  !  " 

"  0,"  said  Helen,  "  to  think  I  should 
have  handled  foi'geries,  and  shown 
them  to  yo'i  for  real.  Ah !  I  'm  so 
glad ;  for  now  I  have  committed  the 
same  crime  as  Robert  Penfold ;  I 
have  uttered  a  forged  document. 
Take  me  up,  and  have  me  put  in 
prison,  for  I  am  as  guilty  as  ever  he 
was."  Her  face  shone  with  rapture  at 
sharing  Robert's  guilt. 

The  Expert  was  a  little  puzzled  by 
sentiments  so  high-flown  and  un- 
practical. 

"I  think,"  said  he,  "you  are 
hardly  aware  what  a  valuable  discov- 
ery this  may  prove  to  you.  Howev- 
er, the  next  step  is  to  get  me  a  speci- 
men of  the  person's  handwriting  who 
furnished    you    with    these.      The 


chances  are  he  is  the  writer  of  the 
forged  note." 

Helen  uttered  an  exclamation  that 
was  almost  a  scream.  The  inference 
took  her  quite  by  surprise.  She 
looked  at  Mrs.  Underclilf. 

"  He  is  right,  I  think,"  said  the 
old  lady. 

"  Right  or  wrong,"  said  the  Ex- 
pert, "  the  next  step  in  the  inquiry  is 
to  do  what  I  said.  But  that  demands 
great  caution.  You  must  write  a  short 
civil  note  to  Mr.  Hand,  and  just 
ask  him  some  question.  Let  me  see  : 
ask  him  what  newspapers  his  extracts 
are  from,  and  whether  he  has  got  any 
more.  He  will  not  tell  you  the  truth ; 
but  no  matter,  we  shall  get  hold  of 
his  handwriting." 

"  But,  sir,"  said  Helen,  "  there  is 
no  need  for  that.  Mr.  Hand  sent  me 
a  note  along  with  the  extracts." 

"  The  deuce  he  did.  All  the  better. 
Any  words  in  it  that  are  in  the  forged 
note  ?  Is  Penfold  in  it,  or  Ward- 
law  1  " 

Helen  reflected  a  moment,  and 
then  said  she  thought  both  those 
names  were  in  it. 

"  Fetch  me  that  note,"  said  Under- 
clilf, and  his  eyes  sparkled.  He  was 
on  a  hot  scent  now. 

"  And  let  me  study  the  genuine 
reports,  and  compare  what  they  say 
with  the  forged  ones,"  said  Mrs. 
Underclilf. 

"  O  Avhat  friends  I  have  found  at 
last ! "  cried  Helen. 

She  thanked  them  both  warmly, 
and  hurried  home,  for  it  was  getting 
late. 

Next  day  she  brought  Hand's  let- 
ter to  Mr.  Underclifi",  and  devoured 
his  countenance  while  he  inspected 
it  keenly,  and  compared  it  with  the 
forged  note. 

The  comparison  was  long  and 
careful,  but  unsatisfactory.  Mr.  Un- 
dercliif  could  not  conscientiously  say 
whether  Hand  had  written  the  forged 
note  or  not.  There  were  pros  and 
cons. 

"  We  are  in  deeper  water  than  I 
thought,"  said  he.     "  The  compari- 


212 


FOUL  PLAY. 


son  must  be  enlarged.  Yon  must 
Avrite  as  I  sujjgestcd,  and  get  another 
note  out  of  Air.  IlaniL" 

"  And  leave  tlic  jiraycr-book  with 
me,"  said  Mrs.  Underclitf. 

Helen  complied  with  these  instruc- 
tions, and  in  due  course  received  a 
civil  line  from  Mr.  Hand,  to  say  that 
the  extracts  had  been  sent  him  from 
the  country  by  one  of  his  fellow-clerks, 
and  he  had  locked  them  up,  lest  Mr. 
Michael  Pcnfold,  who  was  much 
respected  in  the  office,  should  see 
them.  lie  could  not  say  wliere  they 
came  from ;  jjcrhaps  from  some  pro- 
vincial ])aper.  If  of  any  value  to 
Miss  Rolleston,  she  was  quite  at  lib- 
erty to  keep  them.  He  added  there 
was  a  coffee-house  in  the  city  where 
she  could  read  all  the  London  papers 
of  that  date.  This  letter,  which  con- 
tained a  great  many  more  words  than 
the  other,  was  submitted  to  Under- 
clifF.  It  puzzled  him  so  that  he  set 
to  work,  and  dissected  every  curve 
the  writer's  pen  had  made  ;  but  he 
could  come  to  no  positive  conclusion, 
and  he  refused  to  utter  his  conjec- 
tures. 

"  We  are  in  a  deep  water,"  said 
he. 

Finally,  he  told  his  mother  he  was 
at  a  stand  still  for  the  present. 

"  But  I  am  not,"  said  Mrs.  Under- 
clifF.  iShe  added,  after  a  while,  "  I 
think  there  's  felony  at  the  bottom  of 
this." 

"  Smells  like  it  to  me,"  said  the 
Expert. 

"  Then  I  want  you  to  do  something 
very  clever  for  me." 

"  What  is  that  ?  " 

"  I  want  you  to  forge  something." 

"  Come  !   I  say." 

"  Quite  innocent,  I  assure  you." 

"  Well,  but  it  is  a  bad  habit  to 
commence." 

"  All  depends  on  the  object.  This 
is  to  take  in  a  forger,  that  is  all." 

The  Expert's  eyes  sparkled.  He 
had  always  been  sadly  discontented 
with  the  etlbrts  of  forgers,  and  thought 
he  could  do  better. 

"  I  '11  do  it,"  said  he,  gayly. 


CHAPTER  LXI. 

General  Roixeston  and  his 
daughter  sat  at  breakfast  in  the  hotel. 
General  Rolleston  was  reading  the 
Times,  and  his  eye  lighted  on  some- 
thing that  made  him  start.  He 
looked  towards  Helen,  and  his  first 
impulse  was  to  communicate  it  to 
lier :  but,  on  second  thoughts,  he  pi"e- 
ferred  to  put  a  question  to  her  first. 

"  You  have  never  told  the  Ward- 
laws  Avhat  those  sailors  said  "?  " 

"  No,  papa.  I  still  think  they 
ought  to  have  been  told ;  but  you 
know  you  positively  forbade  me." 

"  Of  course  I  did.  Why  afflict  the 
old  gentleman  with  such  a  tale?  A 
couple  of  common  sailors!  who  chose 
to  fancy  the  ship  was  destroyed." 

"  Who  are  better  judges  of  such  a 
thing  than  sailors  ?  " 

"  Well,  my  child,  if  you  think  so, 
I  can't  help  it.  All  1  say  is,  spare 
the  old  gentleman  such  a  report.  As 
for  Artliur,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I 
have  mentioned  the  matter  to  him." 

"  O  papa  !  Then  why  forbid  me 
to  tell  him  ?     What  did  lie  say  '}  " 

"  He  was  very  much  distressed. 
'  Destroy  the  ship  my  Helen  was  in,' 
said  he:  'if  I  thought  Wyiic  had 
done  that,  I  'd  kill  him  with  my  own 
hand,  though  I  was  hanged  for  it 
next  minute.'  I  never  saw  the  young 
fellow  fire  up  so  before.  But  when  he 
came  to  think  calmly  over  it  a  little 
while,  he  said  :  '  I  hope  this  slander 
will  never  reach  my  father's  ears  ;  it 
would  grieve  him  deeply.  I  only 
laugh  at  it.'  " 

"  Laugh  at  it !  and  yet  talk  of 
killing '?  " 

"  O,  people  say  they  laugh  at  a 
thing  when  they  are  very  angry  all 
the  time.  However,  as  you  are  a 
good  girl,  and  mind  what  you  are 
told,  I  'II  read  you  an  advertisement 
that  will  make  you  stare.  Here  is 
Jose])h  Wylie,  who,  you  say,  wrecked 
the  Proserpine,  actually  invited  by 
Michael  Penfold  to  call  on  him,  and 
hear  of  something  to  his  advantage." 

"  Dear  me  1 "   said    Helen,    "  how 


FOUL  PLAY. 


213 


strange  !  Surely  Mr.  Penfold  cannot 
know  the  character  of  that  man.  Stop 
a  minute  !  Advertise  for  him  ?  Then 
nobody  knows  where  he  lives  ?  There, 
papa  :  you  see  he  is  afraid  to  go  near 
Arthur  Wardlaw;  he  knows  he  de- 
stroyed the  ship.  What  a  mystery  it 
all  IS !  And  so  Mr.  Penfold  is  at 
home,  after  all :  and  not  to  send  me 
a  single  line.  I  never  met  with  so 
much  unkindness  and  discourtesy  in 
all  my  life." 

"Ah,  my  dear,"  said  the  General, 
"  you  never  defied  the  world  before,  as 
you  are  doing  now." 

Helen  sighed  ;  but,  presently  recov- 
ering her  spirit,  said  she  had  done 
without  the  world  on  her  dear  island, 
and  she  would  not  be  its  slave  now. 

As  she  was  always  as  good  as  her 
word,  she  declined  an  invitation  to 
play  the  lion,  and,  dressing  herself  in 
plain  merino,  went  down  that  very 
evening  to  Michael  Penfold's  cottage. 

We  run  thither  a  little  before  her, 
to  relate  briefly  what  had  taken  place 
there. 

Nancy  Rouse,  as  may  well  be  im- 
agined, was  not  the  woman  to  burn 
two  thousand  pounds.  She  locked 
the  notes  up ;  and  after  that  night 
became  very  reserved  on  that  head,  so 
much  so  that,  at  last,  Mr.  Penfold 
saw  it  was  an  interdicted  topic,  and 
dropped  it  in  much  wonder. 

When  Nancy  came  to  think  of  it  in 
daylight,  she  could  not  help  suspect- 
ing Wylie  had  some  hand  in  it ;  and 
it  occurred  to  her  that  the  old  gentle- 
man, who  lodged  next  door,  might  be 
an  agent  of  Wylie's,  and  a  spy  on  her. 
AVylie  must  have  told  him  to  push  the 
£  2,000  into  her  room  ;  but  what  a 
strange  thing  to  do  !  To  be  sure,  he 
was  a  sailor,  and  sailors  had  been 
known  to  make  sandwiches  of  bank- 
notes and  eat  them.  Still,  her  good 
sense  revolted  against  this  theory,  and 
she  was  sore  puzzled;  for,  after  all, 
there  was  the  money,  and  she  had 
seen  it  come  through  the  wall.  One 
thing  appeared  certain,  Joe  had  not 
forgotten  her  ;  he  was  thinking  of  her 
as  much  as  ever,  or  more  than  ever ; 


so  her  spirits  rose,  she  began  singing 
and  whistling  again,  and  waited  cun- 
ningly till  Joe  should  reappear  and 
explain  his  conduct.  Hostage  for  his 
reappearance  she  held  the  £2,000. 
She  felt  so  strong  and  saucy  she  was 
half  sorry  she  had  allowed  Mr.  Pen- 
fold  to  advertise  ;  but,  after  all,  it  did 
not  much  matter  ;  she  could  always 
declare  to  Joe  she  had  never  missed 
him,  for  her  part,  and  the,  advertising 
was  a  folly  of  poor  Mr.  Penfold's. 

Matters  were  in  this  condition  when 
the  little  servant  came  up  one  evening 
to  Mr.  Penfold  and  said  there  was  a 
young  lady  to  see  him. 

"  A  young  lady  for  me  ?  "  said  he. 

"  Which  she  won't  eat  j'ou,  while  I 
am  by,"  said  the  sharp  little  girl. 
"  It  is  a  lady,  and  the  same  what 
come  before." 

"  Perhaps  she  will  oblige  me  with 
her  name,"  said  Michael,  timidly. 

"  I  won't  show  her  up  till  she  do," 
said  this  mite  of  a  servant,  who  had 
been  scolded  by  Nancy  for  not  ex- 
tracting that  information  on  Helen's 
last  visit. 

"  Of  course,  I  must  receive  her," 
said  Miciiacl,  half  consulting  the 
mite ;  it  belonged  to  a  sex  which 
promptly  assumes  the  control  of  such 
gentle  creatures  as  he  was. 

"  Is  Miss  Rouse  in  the  way  1  "  said 
he. 

The  mite  laughed,  and  said  :  — 

"  She  is  only  gone  down  the  street. 
I  '11  send  her  in  to  take  care  on  you." 

With  this  she  went  off,  and  in  due 
course  led  Helen  up  the  stairs.  She 
ran  in,  and  whispered  in  Michael's 
ears,  — 

"  It  is  Miss  Helen  Rolleston." 

Thus  they  announced  a  lady  at 
No.  3. 

Michael  stared  with  wonder  at  so 
great  a  personage  visiting  him  ;  and 
the  next  moment  Helen  glided  into 
the  room,  blushing  a  little,  and  even 
panting  inaudibly,  but  all  on  her 
guard.  She  saw  before  her  a  rather 
stately  figure,  and  a  face  truly  vener- 
able, ijenignant,  and  beautiful,  though 
deficient  in  strength.     She  cast  a  de- 


214 


FOUL   PLAY, 


Touring  glance  on  liim  as  she  courte- 
sied  to  him ;  and  it  instantly  flashed 
across  hei%  "  But  for  you  there  would 
be  no  Kobert  renibkl."  There  was 
an  unconscious  tenderness  in  her  voice 
as  she  si)oke  to  him,  for  she  had  to 
open  the  interview. 

"  Mr.  Pcnfold,  I  fear  my  visit  may 
surprise  you,  as  you  did  not  write  to 
mc.  But,  when  you  hear  what  1  am 
come  about,  I  think  you  will  not  be 
displeased  with  me  for  coming." 

"  Displeased,  madam  !  I  am  highly 
honored  by  your  visit,  —  a  lady  who, 
I  understand,  is  to  be  married  to  my 
worthy  employer,  Mr.  Arthur.  Pray 
be  seated,  madam." 

"  Thank  you,  sir." 

Helen  began  in  a  low,  thrilling 
voice,  to  wliich,  however,  she  gave 
firmness  by  a  resolute  effort  of  her 
will. 

"  I  am  come  to  speak  to  you  of  one 
who  is  very  dear  to  you,  and  to  all 
who  really  know  him." 

"  Dear  to  me  ?  It  is  my  son.  The 
rest  are  gone.     It  is  Eobert." 

And  he  began  to  tremble. 

"  Yes,  it  is  Robert,"  said  she,  very 
softly ;  then  turning  her  eyes  away 
from  him,  lest  his  emotion  should 
overcome  her,  she  said, — 

"  lie  has  laid  me  and  my  father 
under  deep  obligations." 

She  dragged  her  father  in  ;  for  it 
was  essential  not  to  show  Mr,  Penfold 
she  was  in  love  with  Kobert. 

"  Obligations  to  my  Robert  ?  Ah, 
madam,  it  is  very  kind  of  you  to  say 
that,  and  cheer  a  desolate  father's 
heart  with  praise  of  his  lost  son ! 
But  how  could  a  poor  unfortunate 
man  in  his  position  serve  a  lady  like 
you  ? " 

"  He  defended  mc  against  robbers, 
single-handed." 

"Ah,"  said  the  old  man,  glowing 
with  pride,  and  looking  more  beauti- 
ful than  ever,  "  he  was  always  as 
brave  as  a  lion." 

"  That  is  nothing  ;  he  saved  my 
life  again,  and  airain,  and  again." 

"  God  bless  him  for  it !  and  God 


bless  you  for  coming  and  telling  me 
of  it!  0  madam,  he  was  always 
brave,  and  gentle,  and  just,  and 
good  ;  so  noble,  so  unfortunate." 

And  the  old  man  began  to  cry. 

Helen's  bosom  heaved,  and  it  cost 
her  a  bitter  struggle  not  to  throw  her 
arms  around  the  dear  old  man's  neck 
and  cry  ^vith  him.  But  she  came  pre- 
pared for  a  sore  trial  of  her  feelings, 
and  she  clenched  her  hands  and  teeth, 
and  would  not  give  way  an  inch. 

"  Tell  me  how  he  saved  your  life, 
madam." 

"  He  was  in  the  ship,  and  in  the 
boat,  with  me." 

"  Ah,  madam,"  said  Michael,  "  that 
must  have  been  some  other  Robert 
Penfold  ;  not  my  son.  He  could  not 
come  home.  His  time  was  not  up, 
you  know." 

"  It  Avas  Robert  Penfold,  son  of 
Michael  Penfold." 

"Excuse  me  a  moment,"  said  Mi- 
chael ;  and  he  went  to  a  drawer,  and 
brought  her  a  photogra])h  of  Robert. 
"  Was  it  this  Robert  Penfold  ?  " 

The  girl  took  the  photograph,  and 
eyed  it,  and  lowered  her  head  over 
it. 

"  Yes,"  she  murmured. 

"  And  he  was  coming  home  in  the 
ship  with  you.  Is  he  mad?  More 
trouble  !  more  trouble  ! " 

"  Do  not  alarm  yourself,"  said 
Helen  ;  "  he  will  not  land  in  England 
for  years,"  —  here  she  stifled  a  sob, 
—  "  and  long  ere  that  we  shall  have 
restored  him  to  society." 

JMichael  stared  at  that,  and  shook 
his  head. 

"  Never,"  said  he  ;  "  that  is  impos- 
sible " 

"  Why  impossible  ?  " 

"  They  all  say  he  is  a  felon." 

"  They  all  shall  say  that  he  is  a 
martyr." 

"And  so  he  is;  but  how  can  that 
ever  be  proved  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  But  I  am  sure 
the  tr\ith  can  always  be  proved,  if 
people  have  patience  and  persever- 
ance." 


FOUL   PLAY. 


215 


"  My  sweet  young  lady,"  said  Mi- 
cliael,  sadly,  "you  don't  know  the 
world." 

"  I  am  learning  it  fast,  though.  It 
may  take  me  a  few  years,  perhaps,  to 
mate  powerful  friends,  to  grope  my 
way  amongst  forgers,  and  spies,  and 
wicked,  dishonest  people  of  all  sorts, 
but  so  surely  as  you  sit  there  I  '11 
clear  Robert  Penfold  before  I  die." 

The  good  feeble  old  man  gazed  on 
her  with  admiration  and  astonish- 
ment. 

She  subdued  her  flashing  eye,  and 
said  with  a  smile :  "  And  you  shall 
help  me.  Mr.  Tenfold,  let  me  ask 
you  a  question.  I  called  here  before  ; 
but  you  were  gone  to  Edinburgh. 
Then  I  wrote  to  you  at  the  office, 
begging  you  to  let  me  know  the  mo- 
ment you  returned  Now,  do  not 
think  i  am  angry  ;  but  pray  tell  me 
wliv  you  would  not  answer  my  let- 
ter!" 

Michael  Penfold  was  not  burdened 
with  amour  propre,  but  who  has  not 
got  a  little  of  it  in  some  corner  of  his 
heart?  "Miss  Eolleston,"  said  he, 
"  I  was  born  a  gentleman,  and  was  a 
man  of  fortune  once,  till  false  friends 
rained  me.  I  am  in  business  now, 
but  still  a  gentleman  ;  and  neither  as 
a  gentleman  nor  as  a  man  of  business 
could  I  leave  a  lady's  letter  unan- 
swered. I  never  did  such  a  thing  in 
all  my  life.  I  never  got  your  lettei-," 
he  said,  quite  put  out ;  and  his  wrath 
was  so  like  a  dove's  that  Helen  smiled 
and  said,  "  But  I  posted  it  myself. 
And  my  address  was  in  it ;  yet  it  was 
not  returned." 

"  "Well,  madam,  it  was  not  deliv- 
ered, I  assure  you." 

"  It  was  intercepted,  then." 

He  looked  at  her.  She  blushed, 
and  said  :  "  Yes,  I  am  getting  suspi- 
cious, ever  since  I  found  I  was  followed 
and  watched.  Excuse  me  a  mo- 
ment." She  went  to  the  window  and 
peered  through  the  curtains.  She 
saw  a  man  walking  slowly  by ;  he 
quickened  his  pace  the  moment  she 
opened  the  curtain. 

"  I'es,"  said  she,  "  it  was  intercept- 


ed, and  I  am  watclied  wherever  I 
go." 

Before  she  could  say  any  more  a 
bustle  was  heard  on  the  stairs,  and  in 
bounced  Nancy  Rouse,  talking  as  she 
came.  "  Excuse  me,  Mr.  Penfolds, 
but  I  can't  wait  no  longer  with  my 
beart  a  bursting ;  it  is !  it  is !  0  my 
dear,  sweet  young  lady  ;  the  Lord  be 
praised  !  You  really  ai'e  here  alive 
and  well.  Kiss  you  I  must  and  shall ; 
come  back  from  the  dead ;  there  — 
there  —  there  !  " 

"  Nancy  !  my  good,  kind  Nancy," 
cried  Helen,  and  returned  her  em- 
brace warmly. 

Then  followed  a  burst  of  broken 
explanations  ;  and  at  last  Helen  made 
out  that  Nancy  was  the  landlady,  and 
had  left  Lambeth  long  ago. 

"  But,  dear  heart !  "  said  she,  "  Mr. 
Penfolds,  I  'm  properly  jealous  of  you. 
To  think  of  her  coming  here  to  see 
you,  and  not  me  !  " 

"  But  I  did  n't  know  you  were  here, 
Nancy."  Then  followed  a  stream 
of  inquiries,  and  such  warm-hearted 
sympathy  with  all  her  dangers  and 
troubles,  that  Helen  was  led  into  re- 
vealing the  cause  of  it  all. 

"Nancy,"  said  she,  solemnly,  "  the 
ship  was  wilfully  cast  away  ;  there 
was  a  villain  on  board  that  made 
holes  in  her  on  purpose,  and  sunk 
her." 

Nancy  lifted  up  her  hands  in  as- 
tonishment. But  ]\Ir.  Penfold  was 
far  more  surprised  and  agitated. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  don't  say 
that !  "  he  cried. 

"  Why  not,  sir  ?  "  said  Helen  ;  "  it 
is  the  truth  ;  and  I  have  got  the  tes- 
timony of  dying  men  to  prove  it." 

"I  am  sorry  for  it.  Pray  don't 
let  anybody  know.  Why,  Ward- 
laws  would  lose  the  insurance  of 
£150,000." 

"Arthur  Wardlaw  knows  it:  my 
father  told  him." 

"  And  he  never  told  me,"  said  Pen- 
fold,  with  growing  surprise. 

"  Goodness  me !  what  a  world  it 
is  !  "  cried  Nancy.  "  Why,  that  was 
murder,  and  no  less.     It  is  a  wonder 


21G 


FOUL  PLAY. 


she  was  n't  drowndcd,  and  another 
friend  into  the  barirain  that  I  had  in 
that  very  shi|).  O,  I  wish  I  had  the 
villain  Irm-c  that  done  it,  I  'd  tear  his 
eyes  ont !  " 

Here  tlic  mite  of  a  servant  bounded 
in,  radiant  and  <;ig;gling,  gave  Nanc}' 
a  triu^ijdiant  glance,  and  popped  out 
again,  holding  the  door  open,  through 
which  in  slouched  a  seafaring  man, 
drawn  by  I'enfbld's  advertisement, 
and  decoyed  into  Nancy's  presence 
by  the  imp  of  a  girl,  who  thought  to 
please  her  mistress. 

Nancy,  who  for  some  days  had  se- 
cretly expected  this  visit,  merely  gave 
a  little  squeak  ;  but  Helen  uttered  a 
violent  scream ;  and,  upon  that, 
Wylie  recognized  her,  and  literally 
staggered  back  a  step  or  two,  and 
these  words  fell  out  of  his  mouth :  — 

"  The  sick  girl !  " 

Helen  caught  them. 

"  Ay  !  "  cried  she ;  "  but  she  is  alive 
in  spite  of  you  :  alive  to  denounce  you 
and  to  jjunish  you." 

She  darted  forward,  and  her  eyes 
flashed  lightning. 

"Look  at  this  man,  all  of  you," 
she    cried.      "  Look    at    him    well : 

THIS  IS  THE  WRETCH  THAT  SCUT- 
TLED THE  Proserpine  !  " 


CHAPTER  LXII. 

"  O  Miss  Helex,  how  can  you 
say  that  f "  cried  Nancy,  in  utter 
dismay.  "  I  '11  lay  my  life  poor  Joe 
never  did  no  such  wickedness." 

But  Helen  waved  her  off  without 
looking  at  her,  and  pointed  at  Wylie. 

"  Are  you  blind  ?  Why  does  he 
cringe  and  cower  at  sight  of  me  1  I 
tell  you  he  scuttled  tlie  Proserpine, 
and  the  great  auger  he  did  it  with  I 
have  seen  and  handled.  Yes,  sir,  yon 
destroyed  a  ship,  and  the  lives  of 
many  innocent  persons,  whose  blood 
now  cries  to  Heaven  against  you  ;  and 
if/  am  alive  to  tell  the  cruel  talc,  it  is 
no  thanks  to  you ;  for  you  did  your 
best  to  kill  me,  and,  what  is  worse,  to 


kill  Robert  Penfold,  this  gentleman's 
son  ;  for  he  was  on  board  the  ship. 
You  are  no  better  than  an  assassin. 

"I  am  a  man  that's  down,"  said 
Wylie,  in  a  low  and  broken  voice, 
hanging  his  head.  "  Don't  hit  me 
any  more.  I  did  n't  mean  to  take 
anybody's  life :  I  took  my  chance 
with  the  rest,  lady,  as  I  'm  a  man.  I 
have  lain  in  my  bed  many 's  the  night, 
crying  like  a  child,  with  thinking  you 
were  dead.  And  now  I  am  glad  you 
arc  alive  to  be  revenged  on  me.  Well, 
you  see,  it  is  your  turn  now ;  you 
have  lost  me  my  sweetheart,  there ; 
she  '11  never  speak  to  me  again,  after 
this.  Ah,  the  poor  man  gets  all  tlic 
blame!  You  don't  ask  who  tempted 
me  ;  and,  if  I  was  to  tell  you,  you  'd 
hate  me  worse  than  ever ;  so  I  '11 
belay.  If  I  'm  a  sinner,  I  'm  a  suffer- 
er. England  's  too  hot  to  hold  me. 
I  've  only  to  go  to  sea,  and  get 
drowned  the  quickest  Avay."  And 
with  this  he  vented  a  deep  sigh,  and 
slouched  out  of  the  room. 

Nancy  sank  into  a  scat,  and  threw 
her  apron  over  her  head,  and  rocked 
and  sobbed  as  if  her  heart  would 
break. 

As  for  Helen  Polleston,  she  still 
stood  in  the  middle  of  the  room, 
burning  with  excitement. 

Then  poor  old  Michael  came  to 
her,  and  said,  almost  in  a  whisper,  — 

"It  is  a  bad  business;  he  is  her 
sweetheart,  and  she  had  the  highest 
opinion  of  him." 

This  softened  Helen  in  a  great 
measure.  She  turned  and  looked  at 
Nancy,  and  said,  — 

"  (i  dear,  what  a  miserable  thing  ! 
But  I  couldn't  know  that." 

After  a  while,  she  drew  a  chair,  and 
sat  down  by  Nancy,  and  said,  — 

"  1  won't  jnmi nil  him,  Nancy." 

Nancy  l)urst  out  sobbing  afresh. 

"  You  have  punished  him,"  said 
she,  brusquely,  "  and  me  too,  as  never 
did  3-ou  no  harm.  You  have  driven 
him  out  of  the  country,  you  have." 

At  this  piece  of  feminine  justice 
Helen's  anger  revived.  "  So,  then," 
said  she,  "  ships  are  to  be  destroyed. 


FOUL  PLAY. 


217 


and  ladies  and  gentlemen  murdered, 
and  nobody  is  to  comjjlain,  or  say  an 
angry  word,  if  the  wretch  happens  to 
be  paying  his  addresses  to  you.  That 
makes  up  for  all  the  crimes  in  the 
world.  What !  Can  an  honest  wo- 
man like  you  lose  all  sense  of  right 
and  wrong  for  a  man  ?  And  such  a 
man  !  " 

"  Why,  he  is  as  well-made  a  fellow 
as  ever  1  saw,"  sobbed  Nancy. 

"  0,  is  he  ?  "  said  Helen,  ironically, 
—  her  views  of  manly  beauty  were 
different,  and  black  eyes  a  sine  qua  iron 
with  her,  — "  then  it  is  a  pity  his 
soul  is  not  made  to  correspond.  I 
hope  by  my  next  visit  you  will  have 
learned  to  despise  him  as  you  ought. 
Why,  if  I  loved  a  man  ever  so, 
I  'd "  tear  him  out  of  my  heart  if 
he  committed  a  crime ;  ay,  though 
I  tore  my  soul  out  of  my  body  to  do 
it." 

"  No,  you  would  n't,"  said  Nancy, 
recovering  some  of  her  natural  pug- 
nacity ;  "  for  we  are  all  tarred  with 
the  same  stick,  gentle  or  simple." 

"But  I  assure  you  I  would,"  cried 
Helen  ;  "  and  so  ought  you." 

"  Well,  miss,  you  begin,"  cried 
Nancy,  suddenly  firing  up  through 
her  tears.  "  If  the  Proserpine  was 
scuttled,  which  I  've  your  word  for  it. 
Miss  Helen,  and  I  never  knew  you  tell 
a  lie,  why,  your  sweetheart  is  more  to 
blame  for  it  than  mine." 

Helen  rose  with  dignity. 

"  You  are  in  grief,"  said  she.  "  I 
leave  you  to  consider  whether  you 
■  have  done  well  to  affront  me  in  your 
own  house."  And  she  was  moving 
to  the  door  with  great  dignity,  when 
Nancy  ran  and  stopped  her. 

"  (3,  don't  leave  me  so.  Miss 
Helen,"  she  ci'ied  ;  "  don't  yon  go 
to  quarrel  with  me  for  speaking  the 
truth  too  plain  and  rude,  as  is  a  plain- 
spoken  body  at  the  best ;  and  in  such 
grief  myself  I  scarce  know  what  to 
say.  But  indeed,  and  in  truth,  you 
must  n't  go  and  put  it  abroad  that  the 
ship  was  scuttled ;  if  you  do,  you 
won't  hurt  Joe  Wjdie ;  he  '11  get  a 
ship  and  fly  the  country.  Who  you  '11 


hurt  will  be  your  own  husband  as  is 
to  be,  — Wardlaws." 

"Shall  I,  Mr.  Pen  fold  ?  "  asked 
Helen,  disdainfully. 

"  Well,  madam,  certainly  it  might 
create  some  unworthy  suspicion." 

"  Suspicion  ?  "  cried  Nancy.  "  Don't 
you  think  to  throw  dust  in  my  eyes. 
'What  had  poor  Joe  to  gain  by  de- 
stroying that  there  ship  ?  you  know 
very  well  he  was  bribed  to  do  it ;  and 
risk  his  own  life.  And  who  bribed 
him  ?  Who  should  bribe  him,  but 
the  man  as  owned  the  ship "?  " 

"  Miss  Rouse,"  said  Mr.  Penfold, 
"I  sympathize  with  your  grief,  and 
make  great  allowance  ;  but  I  will  not 
sit  here  and  hear  my  worthy  employ- 
ers blackened  with  such  terrible  in- 
sinuations. The  great  house  of  Ward- 
law  bribe  a  sailor  to  scuttle  their  own 
ship,  with  Miss  Rolleston  and  one 
hundred  and  sixty  thousand  pounds' 
worth  of  gold  on  board  !  Monstrous  ! 
monsti'ous !  " 

"  Then  what  did  Joe  Wylie  mean  ?  " 
replied  Nancy.  "  Says  he,  '  The  poor 
man  gets  all  the  blame.  If  I  was  to 
tell  you  who  tempted  me,'  says  he, 
'you  'd  hate  me  worse.'  Then  I  say, 
why  should  she  hate  him  worse  ?  Be- 
cause it 's  her  sweetheart  tempted 
mine.     I  stands  to  that." 

This  inference,  thus  worded,  struck 
Helen  as  so  droll  that  she  turned  her 
head  aside  to  giggle  a  little.  But  old 
Penfold  replied  loftily,  — 

"  Who  cares  what  a  Wylie  says 
against  a  great  old  mercantile  house 
of  London  City  '?  " 

"  Very  well,  Mr.  Penfolds,"  said 
Nanev,  with  one  great  final  sob,  and 
dried  her  eyes  with  her  apron ;  and 
she  did  it  with  such  an  air,  they  both 
saw  she  was  not  going  to  shed  anotlier 
tear  about  the  matter.  Very  well ; 
you  are  both  against  me ;  then  1  '11 
say  no  more.  But  I  know  what  I 
know." 

"  And  what  do  you  know  1  "  in- 
quired Helen. 

"  Time  will  show,"  said  Nancy, 
turning  suddenly  very  dogged, — 
"  time  will  show." 


218 


FOUL   PLAY. 


Nothing  more  ^vas  to  be  got  out  of 
her  after  that ;  and  Helen,  soon  after, 
made  her  a  civil,  though  stiff,  little 
speech;  regretted  the  pain  slie  had 
inadvertently  caused  her,  and  went 
away,  leaving  Mr.  Pcnfold  her  ad- 
dress. 

On  her  return  home,  she  entered 
the  whole  adventure  in  her  diary. 
She  made  a  separate  entry  to  this 
effect :  — 

Afi/slcn'ous. — My  letter  to  Mr.  Pen- 
fold  at  the  office  intercepted. 

Wylic  hints  that  he  was  bribed  by 
Messrs.  Wardlaw. 

Nancy  Eouse  suspects  that  it  was 
Arthur,  and  says  time  will  show. 

As  for  me,  I  can  neither  see  why 
Wylie  should  scuttle  the  ship  unless 
he  was  bribed  by  somebody,  nor  what 
Arthur  or  his  father  could  gain  by 
destroying  that  ship.  This  is  all  as 
dark  as  is  that  more  cruel  mystery 
which  alone  I  care  to  solve. 


CHAPTER  LXIII. 

Next  morning,  after  a  sleepless 
night,  Nancy  Kouse  said  to  Mr.  Pen- 
fold,  "  Have  n't  1  heard  you  say  as 
bank-notes  could  be  traced  to  folk  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  madam,"  said  Michael : 
"but  it  is  necessary  to  take  the  num- 
bers of  them." 

"  Oh !  And  how  do  vou  do 
that  ?  " 

"  Why,  every  note  has  its  own 
number." 

"  La  !  3-0  don't  say  so  ;  then  them 
fifties  are  all  numbered,  belike." 

"  Certainly,  and  if  you  wish  me  to 
take  down  the  numbers,  I  will  do 
so." 

"  Well,  sir,  some  other  day  you 
shall.  I  could  not  bear  the  sight  of 
them  just  yet ;  for  it  is  them  as  has 
been  the  ruin  of  poor  Joe  Wvlie,  I  do 
think." 

Michael  could  not  follow  this  ;  but, 
the  cpiestion  having  been  raised,  he 
advised  her,  on  grounds  of  common 
prudence,  not  to  keep  them  in   the 


house  without  taking  down  their 
numbers. 

"  We  will  talk  about  that  in  the 
evening,"  said  Nancy. 

Accordingly,  at  night,  Nancy  pro- 
duced the  notes,  and  Michael  took 
down  the  numbers  and  descriptions  in 
his  pocket-book.  They  ran  from 
16,444  to  1G,463.  And 'he  promised 
her  to  try  and  ascertain  through  what 
hands  they  had  passed.  Ho  said  he 
had  a  friend  in  tlie  Rank  of  i-'ngland, 
who  might  perhaps  be  able  to  discover 
to  what  private  bank  they  had  been 
issued  in  the  first  instance,  and  then 
those  bankers,  on  a  strong  represen- 
tation, might  perhaps  examine  their 
books,  and  say  to  whom  tho}^  had 
jjaid  them,  lie  told  her  the  notes 
were  quite  new,  and  evidently  had 
not  been  separated  since  their  first 
issue. 

"  Nancy  caught  a  glimpse  of  liis 
meaning,  and  set  herself  doggedly  to 
watch  until  the  person  who  had 
passed  the  notes  through  the  ehfmney 
should  come  for  them.  "  He  will  miss 
them,"  said  she,  "  you  mark  my 
words." 

Thus  Helen,  though  reduced  to  a 
stand-still  herself,  had  set  an  inquiry 
on  foot  which  was  alive  and  rami- 
fying- 

In  the  course  of  a  few  days  she  re- 
ceived a  visit  from  Mrs.  Undereliff. 
That  lady  came  in,  and  laid  a  jiraycr- 
book  on  the  table,  saying,  "  I  have 
brought  it  you  Ijack,  miss  ;  and  I 
want  you  to  do  something  for  my 
satisfaction." 

"  O,  certainly,"  said  Helen.  "  What 
is  it?" 

"  Well,  miss,  first  examine  the  book 
and  the  writing.     Is  it  all  right  t  " 

Helen  examined  it,  and  said  it  was  : 
"  Indeed,"  said  slie,  "  the  binding 
looks  fresher,  if  anything." 

"  You  have  a  good  eve,"  said  Mrs. 
Undereliff.  "  Well,  wliat  I  want  you 
to  do  is —  Of  course  Mr.  Wardlaw 
is  a  uood  deal  about  vou  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Does  he  go  to  chureh  with  you 
ever  ? " 


FOUL   PLAY. 


219 


"No." 

"  But  he  would,  if  you  were  to  ask 
him." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  he  would ;  but 
why  ?  " 

''  Manage  matters  so  that  he  shall 
go  to  church  with  you,  and  then  put 
the  book  down  lor  him  to  see  the 
writina:,  all  in  a  moment.  Watch  his 
face  and  tell  me." 

Helen  colored  up  and  said :  "  No  ; 
I  can't  do  that.  Wliy,  it  would  be 
turnhig  God's  temple  into  a  trap ! 
Besides  —  " 

"  The  real  reason  first,  if  you 
please,"  said  this  horribly  shrewd 
old  woman. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Arthur  Wardlaw  is  the 
gentleman  I  am  going  to  marry." 

"  Good  Heayens  !  "  cried  Mrs.  Un- 
dercliff,  taken  utterly  aback  by  this 
most  unexpected  turn.  "  Why,  you 
neyer  told  me  that !  " 

"  No,"  said  Helen,  blushing.  "  I 
did  not  think  it  necessary  to  go  into 
that.  Well,  of  course,  it  is  not  in 
human  nature  that  Mr.  Wardlaw 
should  be  zealous  in  my  good  work, 
or  put  himself  forward ;  but  he  has 
never  refused  to  lend  me  any  help 
that  was  in  his  power ;  and  it  is 
repugnant  to  my  nature  to  suspect 
hira  of  a  harm,  and  to  my  feelings  to 
lay  a  trap  for  him." 

'"  Quite  right,"  said  Mrs.  Under- 
clifF;  "  of  course  I  had  no  idea  you 
were  going  to  marry  Mr.  Wardlaw. 
I  made  sure  Mr.  Penfold  was  the 
man." 

Helen  blushed  higher  still,  but  made 
no  reply. 

Mrs.  UnderclifF  turned  the  conver- 
sation directly.  "  My  son  has  given 
many  hours  to  Mr.  Hand's  two  let- 
ters, and  he  told  me  to  tell  you  he  is 
beginning  to  doubt  whether  Mr.  Hand 
is  a  real  person,  with  a  real  hand- 
writing, at  all." 

"O  Mrs.  Undercliflf!  Why,  he 
Avrote  me  two  letters!  However,  I 
will  ask  Mr.  Penfold  whether  Mr. 
Hand  exists  or  not.  "When  shall 
I  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you 
again  t " 


"  Whenever  j-ou  like,  my  dear 
young  lady  ;  but  not  upon  this  busi- 
ness of  renfold  and  Wardlaw.  I  have 
done  with  it  forever ;  and  my  advice 
to  you,  miss,  is  not  to  stir  the  mud 
any  more."  And  with  these  mys- 
terious words  the  old  lady  retired, 
leaving  Helen  deeply  discouraged  at 
her  desertion. 

However,  she  noted  down  the  con- 
versation in  her  diary,  and  made 
this  comment :  People  tind  no  pleas- 
ure in  proving  an  accused  person 
innocent;  the  charm  is  to  detect 
guilt.  This  day  a  good,  kind  friend 
abandons  me  because  I  will  not 
turn  aside  from  my  charitable  mis- 
sion to  suspect  another  person  as 
wrongfully  as  he  I  love  has  been  sus- 
pected. 

Mem:  To  see,  or  make  inquiries 
about,  Mr.  Hand. 

General  Rolleston  had  taken  a  fur- 
nished house  in  Hanover  Square.  He 
now  moved  into  it,  and  Helen  was 
compelled  to  busy  herself  in  house- 
hold ari'angements. 

She  made  the  house  charming ;  but 
unfortunately  stood  in  a  draught 
whilst  heated,  and  caught  a  chill, 
which  a  year  ago  would  very  likely 
have  gone  to  her  lungs  and  killed  her, 
but  now  settled  on  her  limbs  in  vio- 
lent neuralgic  pains,  and  confined  her 
to  her  bed  for  a  fortnight. 

She  suffered  severely,  but  had  the 
consolation  of  finding  she  was  ten- 
derly beloved.  Arthur  sent  flowers 
every  day,  and  affectionate  notes  twice 
a  day.  And  her  father  was  constantly 
by  her  bedside. 

At  last  she  came  down  to  the 
drawing-room,  but  lay  oir  the  sofa 
well  wrapped  up,  and  received  only 
her  most  intimate  friends.  The  neu- 
ralgia had  now  settled  on  her  right 
arm  and  hand,  so  that  she  could  not 
write  a  letter ;  and  she  said  to  herself 
with  a  sigh,  "O  how  unfit  a  girl  is 
to  do  anything  great !  We  always  fall 
ill  just  when  health  and  strength  are 
most  needed." 

Nevertheless,  during  this  period  of 


220 


FOUL  PLAY. 


illness  and  inaction,  circumstances  oc- 
curred that  fz-avc  her  joy. 

Old  Wardlaw  had  long  been  ex- 
erting Iiiinself  in  inHucntial  channels 
to  obtain  what  he  called  justice  for 
his  friend  l\ollcston,  and  liad  received 
sonic  very  encouraging  promises  ;  for 
the  General's  services  were  indispu- 
table ;  and,  while  he  was  stirring  the 
matter,  Helen  was  unconsciously  co- 
operating by  her  beauty,  and  tlic 
noise  her  adventure  made  in  society. 
At  last  a  gentleman  whose  wife  was 
about  the  queen  promised  old  Ward- 
law  one  day,  that,  if  a  fair  opportu- 
nity should  occur,  that  lady  should  tell 
Helen's  adventure,  and  how  the  gal- 
lant old  (Jeneral,  when  everybody 
else  desjjaircd,  had  gone  out  to  the 
Pacific,  and  found  his  daughter,  and 
brought  her  home.  This  lady  was  a 
courtier  of  ten  years'  standing,  and 
waited  her  opportunity  ;  but  when  it 
did  come,  slic  took  it,  and  she  soon 
found  that  no  great  tact  or  skill  was 
necessary  on  such  an  occasion  as  this. 
She  was  listened  to  with  ready  sym- 
pathy, and  the  very  next  day  some 
inquiries  were  made,  the  result  of 
which  was  that  the  Horse  Guards  of- 
fered Lieutenant  -  General  Kolleston 
the  command  of  a  crack  regiment 
and  a  full  generalship.  At  the  same 
time,  it  was  intimated  to  him  from 
another  official  quarter,  that  a  baron- 
etcy was  at  his  service,  if  he  felt 
disposed  to  accept  it.  The  tears 
came  into  the  stout  old  warrior's  eyes 
at  this  sudden  sunshine  of  royal  fa- 
vor, and  Helen  kissed  old  Wardlaw 
of  her  own  accord ;  and  the  star  of 
the  Wardlaws  rose  into  the  ascendant, 
and  for  a  time  Robert  Penfold  seemed 
to  be  quite  forgotten. 

The  very  day  General  Rolleston 
became  Sir  Edward,  a  man  and  a 
woman  called  at  the  Charing  Cross 
Hotel,  and  asked  for  Miss  Helen 
Rolleston. 

Tlu!  answer  was,  she  had  left  the 
hotel  about  ten  days. 

"  Where  is  she  gone,  if  you 
please  ?  " 


"  We  don't  know." 

"  Why,  has  n't  she  left  her  new 
address  .' " 

"  ISo.  The  footman  came  for 
letters  several  times." 

No  information  was  to  be  got  here, 
and  Mr.  rentbid  and  Nancy  House 
went  home  greatly  disappointed,  and 
puzzled  what  to  do. 

At  first  sight  it  might  appear  easy 
for  Mr.  Penfold  to  learn  the  new 
address  of  Miss  Rollest(m.  He  had 
only  to  ask  Artlmr  Wardlaw.  But, 
to  tell  the  truth,  during  the  last  fort- 
night Nancy  Rouse  luid  impressed 
her  views  steadily  and  persistently  on 
his  mind,  and  he  had  also  made  a  dis- 
co\cry  that  co-operaied  with  her  in- 
fluence and  arguments  to  undermine 
his  confidence  in  his  employer.  What 
that  discovery  was  we  must  leave  him 
to  relate. 

Looking,  then,  at  matters  with  a 
less  unsuspicious  eye  than  heretofore, 
he  could  not  help  observing  that 
Arthur  Wardlaw  never  ])ut  into  the 
otHce  letter-box  a  single  letter  tor  his 
sweetheart.  He  must  write  to  her, 
thought  Michael  ;  but  I  am  not  to 
know  her  address.  Sup]josc,  after 
all,  he  did  intcrcejit  that  letter. 

And  now,  like  other  simple,  credu- 
lous men  whose  confidence  has  been 
shaken,  he  was  literally  brimful  of 
suspicions,  some  of  them  reasonable, 
some  of  them  rather  absurd. 

He  had  too  little  art  to  conceal  his 
change  of  mind  ;  and  so,  very  soon 
after  his  vain  attenijit  to  see  Helen 
Rolleston  at  the  inn,  he  was  bundled 
off  to  Scotland  on  business  of  the  of- 
fice. 

Nancy  missed  him  sorely.  She  felt 
quite  alone  in  the  woild.  She  nian- 
a.iicd  to  get  tluough  the  day,  —  work 
helped  her ;  but  at  night  she  sat 
disconsolate  and  bewildered,  and  she 
was  now  beginning  to  doubt  her  own 
theory.  For  certainly,  if  all  that 
money  had  been  Joe  A\'ylic's,  lie 
Mould  iiardly  have  left  the  country 
without  it. 

Now,  the  second  evening  after 
Michael's  dej)arture,  she  was  seated 


FOUL  PLAY. 


221 


in  his  room,  brooding,  when  suddenly 
she  heard  a  pccuUar  knocking  next 
door. 

She  listened  a  little  while,  and  then 
stole  softly  down  stairs  to  her  own 
little  room. 

Her  suspicions  were  correct.  It  was 
the  same  sort  of  knocking  that  had 
preceded  the  phenomenon  of  the  hand 
and  bank-notes.  She  peeped  into  the 
kitchen  and  whispered,  "Jenny  — 
Polly  —  come  here." 

A  stout  washerwoman  and  the  mite 
of  a  servant  came,  wondering. 

"  Now  you  stand  there,"  said  Nan- 
cy, "  and  do  as  I  bid  you.  Hold  your 
tongues,  now.  I  know  all  about 
it." 

The  myrmidons  stood  silent,  but 
with  panting  bosoms ;  for  the  mys- 
terious knocking  now  concluded,  and 
a  brick  in  the  chimney  began  to 
move. 

It  came  out,  and  immediately  a 
hand  with  a  ring  on  it  came  through 
the  aperture,  and  felt  about. 

The  mite  stood  firm,  but  the  big 
washerwoman  gave  signs  of  agitation 
that  promised  to  end  in  a  scream. 

Nancy  put  her  hand  roughly  before 
the  woman's  mouth.  "  Hold  your 
tongue,  ye  great  soft  —  "  And, 
witliout  finishing  her  sentence,  she 
darted  to  the  chimney  and  seized  the 
hand  with  both  her  own  and  pulled  it 
with  such  violence  that  the  wrist  fol- 
lowed it  through  the  masonry,  and  a 
roar  was  heard. 

"  Hold  on  to  my  waist,  Polly,"  she 
cried.  "Jenny,  take  the  poker,  and 
that  string,  and  tie  his  hand  to  it 
while  we  hold  on.  Quick  !  quick ! 
Are  ye  asleep  1  " 

Thus  adjured,  the  mite  got  the 
poker  against  the  wall,  and  tried  to 
tie  the  wrist  to  it. 

This,  however,  was  not  easy,  the 
hand  struggled  so  desperately. 

However,  pulling  is  a  matter  of 
weight  rather  than  muscle  :  and  the 
weight  of  the  two  women  pulling 
downwards  overpowered  the  violent 
struggles  of  the  man  ;  and  the  mite 
contrived  to  tie  the  poker  to  the  wrist. 


and  repeat  the  ligatures  a  dozen  times 
in  a  figure  of  eight. 

Then  the  owner  of  the  hand,  who 
had  hitherto  shown  violent  strength, 
taken  at  a  disadvantage,  now  showed 
intelligence.  Convinced  that  skill  as 
well  as  force  were  against  him,  he 
ceased  to  struggle,  and  became  quite 
quiet. 

The  women  contemplated  their 
feat  with  flushed  cheeks  and  spar- 
kling eyes. 

When  they  had  feasted  a  reasonable 
time  on  the  imprisoned  hand,  and  two 
of  them,  true  to  their  sex,  had  scru- 
tinized a  green  stone  upon  one  of  the 
fingers,  to  see  whether  it  was  real 
or  false,  Nancy  took  them  by  the 
shoulders,  and  bundled  them  good- 
humoredly  out  of  the  room. 

She  then  lowered  the  gas  and  came 
out,  and  locked  the  room  up,  and  put 
the  key  in  her  pocket. 

"  I  '11  have  my  supper  with  you," 
said  she.  "  Come,  Jenny,  I  'm  cook  ; 
and  you  make  the  kitchen  as  a  body 
could  eat  off"  it,  for  I  expect  visitors." 

"La,  ma'am,"  said  the  mite;  "he 
can't  get  out  of  the  chimbly  to  visit 
hus  through  the  street  door." 

"No,  girl,"  said  Nancy.  "But  he 
can  send  a  hambassador ;  so  Show 
her  heyes  and  plague  her  art,  as  the 
play  says,  for  of  all  the  dirty  kitchens 
give  me  hers.  I  never  was  there  but 
once,  and  my  slipper  come  off  for  the 
muck,  a  sticking  to  a  body  like  bird- 
lime." 

There  was  a  knock  at  Nancy's 
street  door  ;  the  little  servant,  full  of 
curiosity,  was  for  running  to  it  on  the 
instant.     But  Nancy  checked  her. 

"  Take  your  time,"  said  she.  "  It 
is  only  a  lodging-house-keeper." 


CHAPTER   LXIV. 

Sir  Edw.vrd  Rolleston  could 
not  l)ut  feel  his  obligations  to  the 
Wardlaws,  and,  when  his  daughter 
got  better,  he  spoke  warmly  on  the 


223 


FOUL  PLAY. 


subject,  and  asked  her  to  consider 
seriously  wiietlicr  she  had  not  tried 
Arthur's  affection  sufficiently. 

"  He  does  not  coniiilain  to  you,  I 
know,"  said  he  ;  "  l)ut  he  feels  it  very 
luird  that  you  shoulil  ]junisli  him  for 
an  act  of  injustice  that  has  already  so 
deeply  alHicted  him.  He  says  he  be- 
lieves some  fool  or  villain  heard  him 
say  that  two  thousand  jiounds  was  to 
be  borrowed  between  them,  and  went 
and  inij)Osed  on  l\ol)ert  J'enfoid's 
credulity  ;  nicauinj;-,  jx-rhaps,  to  call 
again  after  tlie  note  had  been  cashed, 
and  get  Arthur's  share  of  the  mon- 
ey." 

"But  why  did  he  not  come  for- 
ward ? " 

"  lie  declares  he  did  not  know  Mdicn 
the  trial  was  till  a  month  after :  and  his 
father  bears  him  out;  says  he  was 
actually  delirious,  and  his  life  in  dan- 
ger. I  myself  can  testify  that  he  was 
cut  down  just  in  this  way  wlien  he 
heard  the  Proserjjine  was  lost,  and 
j'ou  on  board  her.  Why  not  gi\'e 
him  credit  for  the  same  genuine  dis- 
tress at  young  Tcnfold's  misfortune  ? 
Come,  llejen,  is  it  fair  to  afflict  and 
punish  this  gentleman  for  the  mis- 
fortune of  another,  wjiom  he  never 
speaks  of  but  with  affection  and  Jtity'' 
He  says  that  if  you  would  marry  him 
at  once,  ho  thinks  he  should  feel 
strong  enough  to  throw  himself  into 
the  case  with  you,  and  would  spare 
neither  money  nor  lalwr  to  clear  Kob- 
crt  I'enfold  ;  but,  as  it  is,  he  says  he 
feels  so  wretched,  and  so  tortured  with 
jealousy,  that  he  can't  co-operate 
warmly  with  you,  though  his  con- 
science rc])roaches  him  every  day. 
Poor  young  nutn !  His  is  really  a 
very  hard  case.  For  you  promised 
him  your  hand  before  you  ever  saw 
liobert  Fenfold." 

"I  did,"  said  Ilt'len  ;  "but  I  did 
not  say  when.  Let  me  have  one  year 
to  my  good  work,  before  I  devote  my 
whole  life  to  Arthur." 

"  Well,  it  will  be  a  year  wasted. 
Why  postpone  your  mai'riage  for 
that  ? " 

"  I  promised." 


"  Yes,  but  he  chose  to  fancy  young 
Wardlaw  is  his  enemy.  You  might 
relax  that,  now  he  tells  you  he  will 
co-ojjcrate  with  you  as  your  husband. 
Now,  Helen,  tell  the  truth,  —  is  it  a 
woman's  work  ?  Have  you  found  it 
so  ?  Will  not  Arthur  do  it  better 
than  you  .'  " 

lleien,  weakened  already  by  days 
of  suft'cring,  be^an  to  crv,  and  sav, 
"What  shall  I  do?  wliat  shall  " I 
do?  " 

"  If  you  have  any  doubt,  my  dear," 
said  Sir  Edward,  "  then  think  of 
what  /  owe  to  these  Wardlaws." 

And  with  that  he  kissed  her,  and 
left  her  in  tears  ;  and,  soon  after,  sent 
Arthur  himself  up  to  plead  his  own 
cause. 

It  was  a  fine  summer  afternoon ; 
the  long  French  casements,  looking 
on  the  garden  of  the  Square,  weic 
open,  and  the  balmy  air  came  in  and 
wooed  the  beautiful  girl's  cheek,  and 
just  stirred  her  hair  at  times. 

Arthur  Wardlaw  came  softly  in, 
and  gazed  at  her  as  she  lay  ;  her  love- 
liness filled  his  heart  and  soul ;  he 
came  and  knelt  by  her  soAi,  and 
took  her  hand,  and  kissed  it,  and  his 
own  eyes  glistened  with  tenderness. 

He  had  one  thing  in  his  favor.  He 
loved  her. 

Her  knowledge  of  this  had  more 
than  once  befricnde<l  him,  and  made 
her  refuse  to  suspect  him  of  any  great 
ill ;  it  befriended  him  now.  She 
turned  a  look  of  angelic  pity  on 
him. 

"  Poor  Arthur !  "  she  said.  "  You 
and  I  are  both  unhappy." 

"  But  we  shall  he  happy,  erelong, 
I  hope,"  said  Arthur. 

Helen  shook  licr  head. 

Then  lie  ]iattcd  her,  and  coaxed  her, 
and  said  he  would  be  her  servant,  as 
well  as  a  husband,  and  no  wish  of  her 
heart  should  go  ungratified. 

"  None  ?  "  said  she,  fixing  her  eyes 
on  him. 

"  Not  one,"  said  he ;  "  upon  my 
honor." 

Then  he  was-so  soft  and  persuasive, 
and  alluded  so  delicately  to  her  plight- 


FOUL  PLAY. 


223 


ed  faith,  that  she  felt  like  a  poor  bird 
can^lit  in  a  silken  net. 

"  Sir  Edward  is  very  good,"  said 
he;  "he  feels  for  me." 

At  that  moment,  a  note  was  sent  np. 

"  Mr.  Wardhiw  is  here,  and  has 
asked  me  when  the  marriage  is  to  be. 
I  can't  tell  him  ;  I  look  like  a  fool." 

Helen  sighed  deeply  and  had  begun 
to  gather  those  tears  that  weaken  a 
woman.  She  glanced  despairingly  to 
and  fio  :  and  saw  no  escape.  Then, 
Heaven  knows  why  or  wherefore,  — 
probably  with  no  clear  design  at  all 
but  a  woman's  weak  desire  to  cause  a 
momentary  diversion,  to  put  otf  the 
inevitable  for  five  minutes, —  she  said 
to  Arthur :  "  Please  give  me  that 
prayer-book.  Thank  you.  It  is  right 
you  should  know  this."  And  she  put 
Cooper's  deposition,  and  Welch's,  into 
bis  hands. 

He  devoured  them,  and  started  up 
in  great  indignation.  "  It  is  an 
abominable  slander,"  said  he.  "  We 
have  lost  ten  thousand  pounds  by  the 
wreck  of  that  ship,  and  Wylie's  life 
was  saved  by  a  miracle  as  well  as 
your  own.  It  is  a  foul  slander.  I 
hurl  it  from  me."  And  he  made  his 
words  good  by  whirling  the  prayer- 
book  out  of  window. 

Helen  uttered  a  scream.  "  My 
mother's  jn-ayer-book  !  "  she  cried. 

"  Oh  !  I  beg  pardon,"  said  he. 

"  As  well  you  may,"  said  she. 
"  Eun  and  send  George  after  it." 

"  No,  I  '11  go  myself,"  said  he. 
"  Tray  forgive  me  :  you  don't  know 
what  a  terrible  slander  tliey  have 
desecrated  your  prayer-book  with." 

He  ran  out  and  was  a  long  time 
gone.  He  came  back  at  last,  looking 
terrified. 

"  I  can't  find  it,"  said  he  :  "  some- 
body has  carried  it  off.  0  how  un- 
fortunate I  am  ! " 

"  Not  find  it !  "  said  Helen.  "  But 
it  must  be  found." 

"  Of  course  it  must  be  found," 
said  Arthur.  "  A  pretty  scandal  to 
go  into  the  hands  of  Heaven  knows 
who.  I  shall  offer  twenty  guineas 
reward  for  it  at  once.     I  '11  jro  down 


to  the  Times  this  moment.  Was  ever 
anything  so  unlucky  ?  " 

"  Yes,  go  at  once,"  said  Helen ; 
"  and  I  '11  send  the  servants  into  the 
Square.  I  don't  want  to  say  any- 
thing unkind,  Arthur,  but  you  ought 
not  to  have  thrown  my  prayer-book 
into  the  public  street." 

"  I  know  I  ought  not,  I  am  ashamed 
of  it  myself." 

"  Well,  let  me  see  the  advertise- 
ment." 

"  You  shall.  I  have  no  doubt  we 
shall  recover  it." 

Next  morning  the  Times  contained 
an  advertisement  olfering  twenty 
guineas  for  a  prayer-book  lost  in 
Hanover  Square,  and  valuable,  not  in 
itself,  but  as  a  relic  of  a  deceased 
parent. 

In  the  afternoon  Arthur  called  to 
know  if  anybody  had  brought  the 
prayer-book  back. 

Helen  shook  her  head  sadly,  and 
said,  "  No." 

He  seemed  very  sorry  and  so  peni- 
tent, that  Helen  said,  — 

"  Do  not  despair.  And  if  it  is 
gone,  why,  I  must  remember  you 
have  forgiven  me  something,  and  I 
must  forgive  you." 

The  footman  came  in. 

"  If  you  please,  miss,  here  is  a 
woman  wishes  to  speak  to  you  ;  says 
she  has  brought  a  prayer-book." 

"  O,  show  her  up  at  once,"  cried 
Helen. 

Arthur  turned  away  his  head  to 
hide  a  cynical  smile.  He  had  good 
reasons  for  tliinking  it  was  not  the 
one  he  had  flung  out  of  the  window 
yesterday. 

A  tall  woman  came  in,  wearing  a 
thick  veil,  that  concealed  her  fea- 
tures. 

She  entered  on  her  business  at 
once. 

"  Y''ou  lost  a  prayer-book  in  this 
Square  yestei'day,  madam." 

"  Yes." 

"  You  offer  twentv  guineas  reward 
for  it." 

"  Yes." 

"  Please  to  look  at  this  one." 


224 


FOUL  PLAY. 


Helen  examined  it,  and  said  -with 
joy  it  was  hers. 

Arthur  was  thunder-struck.  He 
could  not  believe  his  senses. 

"Let  me  look  at  it,"  said  he. 

His  eyes  went  at  once  to  the  writ- 
ing, lie  turned  as  pale  as  death,  and 
stood  jietritied. 

The  woman  took  the  prayer-book 
out  of  his  unresisting  hand,  and 
said, — 

"  You  '11  excuse  me,  sir  ;  hut  it  is 
a  large  reward,  and  gentlefolks  some- 
times go  from  their  word  when  the 
article  is  found." 

Helen,  who  was  delighted  at  get- 
ting back  her  book,  and  rather  tickled 
at  Arthur  having  to  pay  twenty 
guineas  for  losing  it,  burst  out  laugh- 
ing, and  said,  — 

"  Give  her  the  reward,  Arthur;  I 
am  not  going  to  pay  for  your  mis- 
deeds." 

"  With  all  my  heart,"  said  Arthur, 
struggling  for  composure. 

He  sat  down  to  draw  a  check. 

"  What  name  shall  I  put?  " 

"  Hum  !     Edith  Hesket." 

"  Two  t's  ?  " 

"  No,  only  one." 

"There." 

"  Thank  you,  sir. 

She  put  the  check  into  her  purse, 
and  brought  the  prayer-book  to 
Helen. 

"  Lock  it  up  at  once,"  said  she,  in 
a  voice  so  low  that  Arthur  heard  her 
murmur,  but  not  the  words  :  and  she 
retired,  leaving  Helen  staring  with 
amazement,  and  Arthur  in  a  cold 
perspiration. 


CHAPTER  LXV. 

When  the  Springbok  weighed  an- 
chor and  left  the  island,  a  solitary 
form  was  seen  on  Telegraph  Hill. 

When  she  passed  eastward,  out  of 
sight  of  that  ])oint,  a  solitary  figure 
was  seen  on  the  cliffs. 

When  her  course  brought  the  island 
dead  astern  of  her.  a  solitary  (igtirc 
stood  on  the  east  bluff  of  the"  island. 


and  was  the  last  object  seen  from 
the  boat  as  she  left  those  waters  for- 
ever. 

What  words  can  tell  the  sickening 
sorrow  an<l  utter  desolation  that  pos- 
sessed that  yearning  bosom  ! 

When  the  boat  that  had  carried 
Helen  away  was  out  of  sight,  he 
came  back  with  uneven  steps  to  the 
cave,  and  looked  at  all  the  familiar 
objects  with  stony  eyes,  and  scarce 
recognized  them,  for  the  sunshine 
of  her  presence  was  there  no  more. 
He  wandered  to  and  fro  in  a  heavy 
stupor,  broken  every  now  and  then 
by  sharp  jjangs  of  agony  that  almost 
made  him  scream.  And  so  the  poor 
bereaved  creature  wandered  about  all 
day.  He  could  r.ot  cat,  he  could  not 
sleep,  his  misery  was  more  than  he 
could  bear.  One  day  of  desolation  suc- 
ceeded another.  And  what  men  say 
so  hastily  was  true  for  once.  "  His 
life  was  a  burden."  He  dragged  it 
about  with  liim  he  scarce  knew 
how. 

He  began  to  hate  all  the  things  he 
had  loved  wliilst  she  was  there.  The 
beautiful  cave,  all  glorious  with  pearl, 
that  he  had  made  for  her,  he  could 
not  enter  it,  the  sight  killed  him,  and 
she  not  there. 

He  left  Paradise  Bay  altogether  at 
last,  and  anchored  his  boat  in  a  nook 
of  Seal  Bay.  And  there  he  slept  in 
general.  But  sometimes  he  would 
lie  down,  wherever  he  happened  to 
be,  and  sleep  as  long  as  he  could. 

To  him  to  wake  was  a  calamity. 
And,  when  he  did  wake,  it  was  alwavs 
with  a  dire  sense  of  reviving  misery, 
and  a  deep  sigh  at  the  dark  day  he 
knew  awaited  him. 

His  flesh  wasted  on  his  bones,  and 
his  clothes  hung  loosely  about  him. 
The  sorroAv  of  the  mind  reduced  him 
almost  to  that  miserable  condition  in 
which  he  had  landed  on  the  island. 

The  dog  and  the  seal  were  faithful 
to  him  ;  used  to  lie  beside  him,  and 
often  Mhinipercd  ;  their  minds,  accus- 
tomed to  coinntuiiicate  without  the  aid 
of  speech,  found  out.  Heaven  knows 


FOUL  PLAY. 


225 


how  !  that  he  was  in  grief  or  in  sick- 
ness. 

These  two  creatures,  perhaps, 
saved  his  hfe  or  his  reason.  They 
came  between  his  bereaved  heart  and 
utter  solitude. 

Thus  passed  a  month  of  wretched- 
ness unspeakal)le. 

Then  his  grief  took  a  less  sullen 
form. 

.He  came  back  to  Paradise  Bay, 
and  at  sight  of  it  burst  into  a  passion 
of  weeping. 

These  were  his  first  tears,  and  in- 
augurated a  grief  more  tender  than 
ever,  but  less  akin  to  madness  and 
dcs]3air. 

Now  he  used  to  go  about  and  cry 
her  name  aloud,  passionately,  by 
night  and  day. 

"  0  Helen  !  Helen  !  " 

And  next  his  mind  changed  in  one 
respect,  and  he  clung  to  every  re- 
miniscence of  her.  Every  morning 
he  went  round  her  haunts,  and  kissed 
every  place  where  he  had  seen  her  put 
her  hand. 

Only  the  cave  he  could  not  yet 
face. 

He  tried,  too.  He  went  to  the 
mouth  of  it  again  and  again,  and 
looked  in  ;  but  go  into  it  aud  face 
it,  empty  of  her,  —  he  could  not. 

He  praj'cd  often. 

One  night  he  saw  her  in  a  dream. 

She  bent  a  look  of  angelic  pity  on 
him,  and  said  but  these  words,  "  Live 
in  my  cave,"  then  vanished. 

Alone  on  an  island  in  the  vast 
Pacific,  who  can  escape  superstition  ? 
It  fills  the  air.  He  took  this  com- 
munication as  a  command,  and  the 
next  night  he  slept  in  the  cave. 

But  he  entered  it  in  the  dark,  and 
left  it  before  dawn. 

By  degrees,  however,  he  plucked  up 
courage  and  faced  it  in  daylight.  But 
it  was  a  sad  trial  :  ho  came  out  crying 
bitterly  after  a  few  minutes. 

Still    he    persevered,  because    her 

image  had    bade    liim  ;  and   at  la^t, 

one    evening,    lie    even    lighted    the 

lamp,  and   sat   there  looking  at  the 

15 


glorious  walls  and  roof  his  hajjlcss 
love  had  made. 

Getting  stronger  by  degrees,  he 
searched  about,  and  found  little  relies 
of  her,  —  a  glove,  a  needle,  a  great 
hat  she  had  made  out  of  some  large 
leaves.  All  these  he  wept  over  and 
cherished. 

But  one  day  he  found  at  the  very 
back  of  the  cave  a  relic  that  made  him 
start  as  if  a  viper  had  stung  his  loving 
heart.     It  was  a  letter. 

He  knew  it  in  a  moment.  It  had 
already  caused  him  many  a  pang ; 
but  now  it  almost  drove  him  mad. 
Arthtir  Wardlaw's  letter. 

He  recoiled  from  it,  and  let  it  lie. 
He  went  out  of  the  cave,  and  cursed 
his  hard  fate.  But  he  came  back. 
It  was  one  of  those  horrible  things  a 
man  abhors,  yet  cannot  keep  away 
from.  He  took  it  up  and  dashed  it 
down  with  rage  many  times ;  but  it 
all  ended  in  his  lighting  the  lamp  at 
night,  and  torturing  himself  with 
every  word  of  ihat  loving  letter. 

And  she  was  going  home  to  the 
writer  of  that  letter,  and  he  was  left 
prisoner  on  the  island.  He  cursed  his 
generous  folly,  and  writhed  in  agony 
at  the  thought.  He  raged  wiih  jeal- 
ousy, so  that  his  very  grief  was 
blunted  for  a  time. 

He  felt  as  if  he  must  go  mad. 

Then  he  yjrayed,  —  prayed  feiwent- 
ly.  And  at  last,  worn  out  with  such 
tierce  and  contending  emotions,  he  fell 
into  a  deep  sleep,  and  did  not  wake  till 
the  sun  Avas  high  in  heaven. 

He  woke  ;  and  ihe  first  thing  he  saw 
was  the  fiital  letter  lying  at  his  feet  in 
a  narrow  stream  of  sunshine  that 
came  peering  in. 

He  eyed  it  with  horror.  This  was 
then  to  haunt  him  by  night  and  day. 

He  eyed  it  and  eyed  it.  Then 
turned  his  face  from  it ;  but  could 
not  help  eying  it  again. 

And  at  last  certain  words  in  this 
letter  seemed  to  him  to  bear  an 
affinity  to  another  ])iece  of  writing 
that  had  also  caused  him  a  great  woe. 
Memory  by  its  subtle  links  connect- 
ed these  two  enemies  of  his  together. 


226 


FOUL  PLAY. 


lie  eyed  it  still  more  keenly,  and  that 
impression  bceanie  strenjithened.  lie 
took  the  letter  and  looked  at  it  elose, 
and  held  it  at  arm's  leni;ih,  and  de- 
voured it ;  and  ihe  effect  of  this  keen 
examination  was  very  remarkable. 
It  seemed  to  restore  the  man  to  en- 
ergy and  to  something  like  hope. 
His  eyes  sjjarkled,  and  a  triumphant 
"Ah!  "  burst  iVom  his  bosom. 

He  became  once  more  a  man  of 
action.  He  rose,  and  bathed,  and 
■walked  rapidly  to  and  fro  ii])ou  the 
sands,  working  himself  u])  to  a  daring 
enterprise.  He  took  his  saw  into  the 
jungle,  and  cut  down  a  tree  of  a  kind 
common  enough  there.  It  was  won- 
derfully soft,  and  almost  as  light  as 
cork.  The  wood  of  this  was  literally 
useless  for  any  other  ])ur])0!;e  than 
that  to  which  I'eniold  destined  it. 
He  cut  a  great  many  blocks  of  this 
wood,  and  drilled  holes  in  them,  and, 
having  hundreds  of  yards  of  good  line, 
attached  these  ipiasi  corks  to  the  gun- 
Avalc,  so  as  to  make  a  life-boat.  This 
work  took  him  several  days,  during 
which  time  an  event  occurred  that  en- 
couraged him. 

One  morning  he  saw  about  a  mil- 
lion birds  very  busy  in  the  bay,  and 
it  proved  to  be  a  sjiermaceti  whale 
come  ashore. 

He  went  out  to  her  directly  with  all 
his  tools,  for  he  wanted  oil  for  his  en- 
terjirise,  and  the  seal  oil  was  exhaust- 
ed. 

When  he  got  near  the  whale  in  his 
l)oat,  he  observed  a  harpoon  sticking 
in  the  animal's  liack.  He  cut  steps 
with  his  axe  in  the  slip])ery  carcass, 
and  got  up  to  it  as  well  as  he  could, 
extracted  it  by  cutting  and  ])ulling, 
and  threw  it  down  into  his  boat,  but 
not  till  he  had  taken  the  precaution 
to  stick  a  great  piece  of  blubber  on 
the  barbed  point.  He  then  sawed 
and  hacked  under  difficulties,  being 
buffeted  and  bothered  with  thousands 
of  birds,  so  eager  for  slices,  that  it 
was  as  much  as  he  could  do  to  avoid 
the  making  of  minced  fowl  ;  hut,  true 
to  his  gentle  creed,  he  contrived  to 
get  three  hundrcd-Aveight  of  blubber 


without  downright  killing  any  of 
these  greedy  competitors,  though  he 
buffeted  some  (A'  them,  and  nearly 
knocked  out  what  little  sense  they 
liad.  He  came  ashore  with  his  blub- 
ber and  harpoon,  and  when  he  came 
to  examine  the  latter,  he  I'ound  that 
the  name  of  the  owner  was  cut  deep- 
ly in  the  steel,  —  Josh.  Fullalove,  J. 
Fernandez.  This  inscrijition  had  a 
great  eH'ect  on  Robert  Penfold's  mind. 
It  seemed  to  bring  the  island  of  Juan 
Fernandez,  and  humanity  in  general, 
nearer  to  him. 

He  boiled  down  the  blubber,  and 
put  a  barrel  of  oil  on  board  his  life- 
boat. He  had  a  ship's  lantern  to  burn 
it  in.  He  also  pitched  her  bottom  as 
far  as  he  could  get  at  it,  and  provis- 
ioned her  for  a  long  voyage ;  taking 
care  to  lash  the  water-cask  and  beef- 
cask  to  the  fore-thwart  and  foremast, 
in  case  of  rough  weather. 

When  he  had  done  all  this,  it  oc- 
cuiTcd  to  him  snddeidy,  that,  should 
he  ever  escape  the  winds  and  waves, 
and  get  to  England,  he  would  then 
have  to  encounter  difficulties  and  dan- 
gers of  another  class,  and  lose  the  bat- 
tle by  his  poverty. 

"  I  play  my  last  stake  now,"  said 
he.     "  I  will  throw  no  chance  away." 

He  reflected,  with  great  bitterness, 
on  the  misery  that  want  of  money  had 
already  brought  on  him  ;  and  he  vowed 
to  reach  England  rich,  or  go  to  the 
Ixjttom  of  the  Paciflc. 

This  may  seem  a  strange  a^ow  for  a 
man  to  make  on  an  unknown  island  ; 
but  liobert  Penfold  bad  a  powerful 
understanding,  sharpened  by  adversi- 
ty, and  his  judgment  told  him  tridy 
that  he  possessed  wealth  on  this 
island,  both  directly  aiul  indirectly. 
In  the  first  place,  knowledge  is  some- 
times wealth,  and  the  knowledge  of 
this  island  was  a  thing  he  could  sell 
to  the  American  merchants  on  the 
coast  of  Chili  ;  and,  with  this  view,  he 
]mt  on  board  his  boat  specimens  of  the 
cassia  and  other  woods,  fruit,  spices, 
pitch,  guano,  ]iink  and  red  coral, 
pearl  oysters,  shells,  cochineal,  quartz, 
cotton,  &.C.,  &c. 


FOUL  PLAY. 


227 


Then  he  took  his  chisel,  and  struck 
all  the  larger  pearls  oft"  the  shells  that 
linud  Helen's  cave.  The  walls  and 
roof  yielded  nine  enormous  pearls, 
thirty  large  ones,  and  a  great  many 
of  the  usual  size. 

He  made  a  pocket  inside  his  waist- 
coat to  hold  the  pearls  safe. 

Then  he  took  his  spade  and  dug 
into  the  Spanish  ship  for  treasure. 
But  this  was  terrible  work.  The 
sand  returned  upon  the  spade  and 
trebled  his  labor. 

The  condition  to  Avhich  time  and 
long  submersion  had  reduced  this 
shij)  and  cargo  was  truly  remarkable. 
Nothing  to  Ije  seen  of  the  deck  but  a 
thin  brown  streak  that  mingled  with 
the  sand  in  patches  ;  of  the  timbers 
nothing  but  the  uprights,  and  of  those 
the  larger  half  eaten  and  dissolved. 

He  dug  five  days,  and  found  noth- 
ing solid. 

On  the  si.xth,  being  now  at  the  bot- 
tom of  the  ship,  he  struck  his  spade 
against  something  hard  and  heav}'. 

On  inspection  it  looked  like  ore, 
but  of  what  metal  he  could  not  tell ; 
it  was  as  black  as  a  coal.  He  threw 
this  on  one  side,  and  found  nothing- 
more  ;  but  the  next  day  he  turned  up 
a  smaller  fragment,  which  he  took 
home  and  cleaned  with  lime-juice. 
It  came  out  bright  in  places  like 
silver. 

This  discovery  threw  light  on  the 
other.  The  piece  of  black  ore,  weigh- 
ing about  seven  pounds,  was  in  reality 
silver  coin,  that  a  century  of  submer- 
sion had  reduced  to  the  very  appear- 
ance it  wore  before  it  ever  went  into 
the  furnace. 

He  dug  with  fresh  energy  on  this 
discovery,  but  found  nothing  more  in 
the  ship  that  day. 

Then  it  occurred  to  him  to  carry 
off  a  few  hundred-weight  of  pink 
coral. 

He  got  some  fine  specimens  ;  and, 
while  he  was  at  that  work,  he  fell  in 
with  a  piece  that  looked  very  solid  at 
the  root  and  unnaturally  heavy.  On 
a  nearer  examination  this  proved  to 
be  a  foreign  substance  incrusted  with 


coral.  It  had  twined  and  twisted  and 
curled  over  the  thing  in  a  most  un- 
heard-of way.  Robert  took  it  home, 
and,  by  rubbing  here  and  there  with 
lemon-juice,  at  last  satisfied  himself 
that  this  object  was  a  silver  box  about 
the  size  of  an  octavo  volume. 

It  had  no  keyhole,  had  evidently 
been  soldered  up  for  greater  security, 
and  Robert  was  left  to  conjecture  how 
it  had  come  there. 

He  connected  it  at  once  with  the 
ship,  and  felt  assured  that  some  at- 
tempt had  been  made  to  save  it. 
There  it  had  lain  by  the  side  of  the 
vessel  all  these  years,  but,  falling 
clear  of  the  sand,  had  been  embraced 
by  the  growing  coral,  and  was  now  a 
curiosity,  if  not  a  treasure. 

He  would  not  break  the  coral,  but 
ptit  it  on  board  his  life-boat  just  as  it 
was. 

And  now  he  dug  no  more.  He 
thought  he  could  sell  the  galleon  as 
well  as  the  island,  by  sample,  and  he 
was  impatient  to  be  gone. 

He  reproached  himself,  a  little  un- 
justly, for  allowing  a  woman  to  un- 
dertake the  task  of  clearing  him. 

"  To  what  annoyance-;,  and  perhaps 
affronts,  have  I  exposed  her,"  said  he. 
"  No,  it  is  a  man's  business  to  defend, 
not  to  be  defended." 

To  conclude :  At  high  tide  one 
fine  afternoon  he  went  on  board  with 
Ponto,  and,  hoisting  his  foresail  only, 
crossed  the  bay,  ranging  along  the 
island  till  he  reached  the  bluif.  He 
got  under  this,  and,  by  means  of  his 
compass  and  previous  observations, 
set  the  boat's  head  exactly  on  the  line 
the  ducks  used  to  take.  Then  he  set 
his  mainsail  too,  and  stretched  boldly 
out  across  the  great  Pacific  Ocean. 

Time  seems  to  wear  out  everything, 
even  bad  luck.  It  ran  strong  against 
Robert  Peufold  for  years  :  but,  when 
it  had  struck  its  worst  blow,  and 
parted  him  and  Helen  Rolleston,  it 
relaxed,  and  a  tide  of  good  luck  set 
in,  which,  unfortunately,  the  broken- 
hearted man  could  not  appreciate  at 
the  time.    However,  so  it  was.    He 


228 


FOUL  PLAY, 


wanted  oil ;  and  a  whale  came  ashore. 
IIo  wanted  treasure,  and  the  sea  <;avc 
him  a  little  hack  of"  all  it  had  .^wal- 
lowed ;  and  now  he  wanted  fine 
weather ;  and  the  ocean  for  days  and 
nights  was  like  peach-colored  glass, 
dini])led  here  and  tlierc ;  and  soft 
westerly  airs  fanned  him  along  by 
night  and  day. 

~  To  be  sure,  he  was  on  the  true 
Pacific  Ocean,  at  a  jjcriod  when  it  is 
really  free  from  storms.  Still,  even 
for  that  latitude,  he  had  wonderful 
weather  for  six  days ;  and  on  the 
seventh  he  fell  in  with  a  schooner, 
the  skipper  and  crew  of  which  looked 
over  the  bulwarks  at  him  with  won- 
der and  cordiality,  and,  casting  out  a 
rope  astern,  took  him  in  tow. 

The  skipper  had  been  eying  him 
with  amazement  for  some  liours 
through  his  telescope ;  but  he  was  a 
man  that  had  seen  a  great  many 
strange  things,  and  it  was  also  a 
point  of  honor  with  him  never  to  al- 
low that  he  was  astonished,  or  taken 
by  surprise,  or  greatly  moved. 

"  Wal,  stranger,"  said  he,  "  what 
craft  is  that  ■?  " 

"  The  Helen." 

"  Where  d'  ye  hail  from  ?  not  that 
I  am  curious." 

"  From  an  unknown  island." 

"Do  tell.  What,  another!  Is  it 
anyways  nigh "? " 

"  Not  within  seven  hundred  miles." 

"  Je — rusalem  !  Have  you  sailed 
all  that  in  a  cockle-shell  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  AVhy,  what  arc  ye  ?  the  Wander- 
ing Jew  afloat,  or  the  Ancient  Mari- 
ner ?  or  only  a  kinder  nautilus  ?  " 

"  I  'm  a  landsman." 

"  A  landsman  !  then  so  is  Neptune. 
What  is  your  name  when  you  are 
ashore?  " 

"  Kohort  Tenfold.  The  Reverend 
Robert  Pen  fold." 

"The  Keverend  —  Je — rusa- 
lem !  " 

"  May  I  ask  what  is  your  name, 
sir  ? " 

"  Wal,  I  reckon  you  may,  stranger. 
I  'm  Joshiaa  FuUalove  from  the  States, 


at  present  located  on  the  island  of 
Juan  Fernandez ! " 

"  Joshua  FuUalove !  That  is  lucky. 
I  've  got  something  that  belongs  to 
you." 

He  looked  about,  and  found  the 
harpoon,  and  handed  it  up  in  a  mighty 
straightforward  sini|)le  way. 

Joshua  stared  at  him  incredulously 
at  tirst,  but  afterwards  with  amaze- 
ment. He  handled  the  hariioon,  and 
inquired  where  Robert  had  fallen  in 
with  it.     Robert  told  him. 

"  Y'ou  're  an  honest  man,"  said 
FuUalove,  "  you  air.  Come  aboard." 
He  was  then  pleased  to  congratulate 
himself  on  his  strange  luck  in  having 
drifted  across  an  honest  man  in  the 
middle  of  the  ocean.  "  I  've  heerd," 
said  he,  "  of  an  old  chaji  as  groped 
about  all  his  life  with  a  lantern,  and 
could  n't  find  one.     Let 's  lii|uor." 

He  had  some  celestial  mi.xture  or 
other  made,  including  rum,  mint,  and 
snow  from  the  Andes,  and  then  be- 
gan his  interrogatories,  again  dis- 
claiming curiosity  at  set  intervals. 

"  Whither  bound,  honest  man  1  " 

"  The  coast  of  Chili." 

"What  for?" 

"  Trade." 

"  D'  ye  buy  or  sell  ?  Not  that  it  is 
my  business." 

"  I  wish  to  sell." 

"  AVhat  's  the  merchandise?  " 

"  Knowledge,  and  treasure." 

FuUalove  scratched  his  head. 
"  Hain't  yc  got  a  few  conundrums 
to  swaj)  for  gold  dust  as  well  ?  " 

Robett  smiled  faintly :  the  first 
time  this  six  weeks. 

"  I  have  to  sell  the  knowdedgc  of 
an  island  with  rich  products :  and  I 
have  to  sell  the  contents  of  a  Spanish 
treasure-shiji  that  I  found  buried  in 
the  sand  of  that  island. 

The  Yankee's  eyes  glistened. 

"  Wal,"  said  he,  "  I  do  business  in 
islands  myself  I  've  leased  this  Juan 
Fernandez.  But  one  of  them  is 
enough  at  a  time.  I  'm  monarch  of 
all  1  survey  :  but  then  what  1  survey 
is  a  mixallaneous  bilin'  of  Irish  and 
Otaheitans,  that  it 's  pizcn  to  be  men- 


FOUL  PLAY. 


229 


arch  of.  And  now  them  darned  Irish 
has  taken  to  converting  the  heatliens 
to  superstition  and  the  worshi]j  of  im- 
ages, and  breal-cs  tlieir  lieads  if  they 
won't:  and  the  heathens  arc  all  smiles 
and  sweetness  and  immorality.  No, 
islands  is  no  hait  to  me." 

"I  never  asked  you,"  said  Robert. 
"  What  I  do  ask  you  is  to  land  me  at 
Valparaiso.  There  I'll  find  a  pur- 
chaser, and  will  pay  you  handsomely 
for  your  kindness."  • 

"  That  is  fair,"  said  Fullalove,  dry- 
ly.    "  What  will  you  pay  me  1 " 

"  I  '11  show  you,"  said  Robert.  He 
took  out  of  his  pocket  the  smaller 
conglomeration  of  Spanisli  coin,  and 
put  it  into  Fullalove's  hand.  "  That," 
said  h.%  "is  silver  coin  I  dug  out  of 
the  galleon." 

Fullalove  inspected  it  keenly,  and 
trembled  slightly.  Robert  then  went 
lightly  over  the  tatfrail,  and  slid  down 
the  low  rope  into  his  boat.  He  held 
up  the  black  mass  we  have  described. 

"  This  is  solid  silver.  I  will  give 
it  you,  and  my  best  thanks,  to  land 
me  at  Valparaiso." 

"  Heave  it  aboard,"  said  the  Yankee. 

Robert  steadied  himself,  and  hove 
it  on  board.  The  Yankee  caught  it, 
heavy  as  it  was,  and  subjected  it  to 
some  chemical  test  directly. 

"  Wal,"  said  he,  "  that  is  a  bargain. 
I  '11  hind  ye  at  Valparaiso  for  this. 
Jack,  lay  her  head  S.  S.  E.  and 
by  E." 

Having  given  this  order,  he  leaned 
over  the  taffrail  and  asked  fof  more 
samples.  Robert  showed  him  the 
fruits,  woods,  and  shells,  and  the  pink 
coral,  and  bade  him  observe  that  the 
b(jat  was  ballasted  with  pearl  oysters. 
He  threw  him  up  one,  atid  a  bunch  of 
pink  coral.  He  then  shinned  up  the 
rope  again,  and  the  interrogatories 
recommenced.  But  this  time  he  was 
questioned  closely  as  to  who  he  was, 
and  how  he  came  on  the  island  ■?  and 
the  questions  were  so  shrewd  and 
p'-nstrating  that  his  fortitude  gave 
way,  and  he  cried  out  in  anguish, 
"IMan,  man!  do  not  torture  me  so. 
O  do  not  make  me  talk  of  my  grief 


and  my  wrongs  !  they  are  more  than 
I  can  bear." 

i'uUalove  forbore  directly,  and  of- 
fered him  a  cigar.  He  took  it,  and 
it  soothed  him  a  little ;  it  was  long 
since  he  had  smoked  one.  His  agita- 
tion subsided,  and  a  quiet  tear  or  two 
rolled  down  his  haggard  cheek. 

The  Yankee  saw,  and  kept  silence. 

But,  when  the  cigar  was  nearly 
smoked  out,  he  said  he  was  afi'aid 
Robert  would  not  find  a  customer  for 
his  island,  and  what  a  pity  Joshua 
Fullalove  was  cool  on  islands  just 
now. 

"  Oh  !  "  said  Robert,  "  I  know 
there  are  enterprising  Americans  on 
the  coast  who  will  give  me  money 
for  what  I  have  to  sell." 

Fullalove  was  silent  a  minute,  then 
he  got  a  piece  of  wood  and  a  knife, 
and  said,  with  an  air  of  resignation, 
"  I  reckon  we  '11  have  to  deal." 

Need  we  say  that  to  deal  had  been 
his  eager  desire  from  the  first  ? 

He  now  began  to  whittle  a  peg, 
and  awaited  the  attack. 

"  What  will  you  give  me,  sir  1 " 

"  What,  money  down  ?  And  you 
got  nothing  to  sell  but  chances. 
Why,  there 's  an  old  cuss  about  that 
knows  where  the  island  is  as  well  as 
you  do." 

"  Then  of  coitrse  you  will  treat 
with  him,"  said  Robert,  sadly. 

"  Darned  if  I  do,"  said  the  Yan- 
kee. "  You  are  in  trouble,  and  he  is 
not,  nor  never  will  be  till  he  dies,  and 
then  he  '11  get  it  hot,  I  calc'late.  He 
is  a  thief  and  stole  my  harpoon  :  you 
are  an  honest  man  and  brought  it 
back.  I  reckon  I  '11  deal  with  you 
and  not  with  that  old  cuss  ;  not  by  a 
jugful !  But  it  must  be  on  a  per- 
centage. You  tell  me  the  bearings 
of  that  there  island,  and  I  '11  work  it 
and  pay  five  per  cent  on  the  gross." 

"  Would  you  mind  throwing  that 
piece  of  wood  into  the  sea,  Mr.  Fulla- 
love 1  "  said  Robert. 

"  Caen't  be  done,  nohow.  I  caen't 
deal  without  whittlin'." 

"  You  mean  you  can't  take  an  un- 
fiiir  advantage  without   it.      Come, 


230 


FOUL   PLAY. 


Mr.  Fullalove,  let  us  cut  tlii.<!  short.  I 
am,  a.s  you  say,  au  Jiouest  and  most 
uutbrtunate  man.  Sir,  1  was  falsely 
accused  of  a  crime  and  baTiished  my 
country.  I  can  j)rove  my  innocence 
now  if  I  can  but  get  home  with  a 
great  deal  of  money.  So  much  for 
7116.  You  are  a  member  of  the  vain- 
est and  most  generous  nation  in  the 
world." 

"  Wal,  now  that 's  kinder  honey 
and  vinegar  mixed,"  said  Fullalove  ; 
•'  pretty  good  for  a  Britisher, 
though." 

"  You  are  a  man  of  that  nation 
which  in  all  the  agonies  and  unparal- 
leled expenses  of  civil  war,  smarting, 
too,  under  anonymous  taunts  from 
England,  did  yet  send  over  a  large 
sum  to  relieve  the  distresses  of  cer- 
tain poor  Englishmen  who  were  in- 
direct victims  of  that  same  calamity. 
The  act,  the  time,  the  misery  relieved, 
the  taunts  overlooked,  prove  your 
nation  superior  to  all  others  in  gener- 
osity. At  least  my  reading,  which  is 
very  large,  affords  no  parallel  to  it, 
either  in  ancient  or  modern  history. 
Mr.  Fullalove,  please  to  recollect  that 
you  are  a  member  of  that  nation, 
and  that  I  am  very  unhaj)py  and 
helpless,  and  want  money  to  undo 
cruel  wrongs,  but  have  no  heart  to 
chaffer  irtuch.  Take  the  island  and 
the  treasures,  and  give  me  half  the 
profits  you  make.  Is  not  that  fair  ?  " 
Fullalove  wore  a  rueful  counte- 
nance. 

"  Darn  the  critter,"  said  he,  "  he  '11 
take  skin  off  my  bones  if  I  don't 
mind.  Fust  Britisher  ever  I  met  as 
liad  the  sense  to  see  that.  'T  was 
ratther  handsome,  warn't  it  ?  Wal, 
human  nature  is  deep ;  every  man 
you  tackle  in  business  lams  ye  some- 
thing. AA^hat  with  ])icking  ye  out  o' 
the  sea,  and  you  giving  me  back  the 
har])Oon  the  cuss  stole,  and  your  face 
like  a  young  calf,  when  you  arc  the 
'cutest  fox  out,  and  you  giving  the 
great  L^nited  States  their  due,  I'm 
no  more  tit  to  deal  than  mashed  po- 
tatoes. Now  I  cave  ;  it  is  only  for 
once.     Next  time,  don't  you  try  to 


palaver  me.  Draw  me  a  map  of  our 
island,  Britisher,  and  mark  where  the 
Spaniard  lies  :  1  tell  yuu  I  know  her 
name,  and  the  year  she  was  lost  in  : 
lamed  that  at  Lima  one  day.  Kinder 
startled  me,  you  did,  when  you 
showed  me  the  coin  out  of  her.  Wal, 
there  's  my  hand  on  haelf  profits, 
and,  if  I'm  keen,  I'm  .squar'." 

Soon  after  this  he  led  Robert  to  his 
cabin,  and  liobert  drew  a  large  map 
from  his  models ;  and  Fullalove,  be- 
ing himself  an  excellent  draughts- 
man, and  provided  with  proper  in- 
struments, aided  him  to  finish  it. 

Next  day  they  sighted  Valparaiso, 
and  hove  to  outside  the  port. 

All  the  specimens  of  insular  wealth 
were  ]jut  on  board  the  schooner  and 
secreted ;  for  Fullalove's  first  move 
was  to  get  a  lease  of  the  island  from 
the  Chilian  government,  and  it  was 
no  part  of  his  plan  to  trumpet  the 
article  he  was  going  to  buy. 

After  a  moment's  hesitation,  he 
declined  to  take  the  seven  pounds  of 
silver.  He  gave  as  a  reason,  that, 
having  made  a  bargain  which  com- 
pelled him  to  go  to  Valparaiso  at  once, 
he  did  not  feel  like  charging  his  part- 
ner a  fancy  price  for  towing  his  boat 
thither.  At  the  same  time  he  hinted 
that,  after  all  this,  the  next  customer 
would  find  him  a  very  difficult  Yan- 
kee to  get  the  better  of 

With  this  understanding,  he  gave 
Robert  a  draft  for  £  80  on  account  of 
profits  ;  and  this  enabled  him  to  take 
a  passage  for  England  with  all  his 
belongings. 

He  arrived  at  Southampton  very 
soon  after  the  events  last  related,  and 
thence  went  to  London,  fully  alive  to 
the  danger  of  his  position. 

He  had  a  friend  in  his  long  beard, 
but  he  dared  not  rely  on  that  alone. 
Like  a  mole,  he  worked  at  night. 


CHAPTER  LXVI. 

Helen    asked    Arthur    Wardlaw 
why    he  was    so    surprised    at    the 


FOUL   PLAY. 


231 


praj-cr-boolc  being  brouglit  back.  Was 
it  worth  twenty  pounds  to  any  one 
except  lierself? 

Arthur  looked  keenl}-  at  her  to  see 
whether  slie  intended  more  than  met 
the  ear,  and  then  said  that  lie  was 
surprised  at  the  rapid  effect  of  his 
advertisement,  that  was  all. 

"  Now  you  have  got  the  book," 
said  he,  "  I  do  hope  you  will  erase 
that  cruel  slander  on  one  whom  you 
me:»n  to  honor  with  your  hand." 

This  proposal  made  Helen  blush, 
and  feel  very  miserable.  Of  the  ob- 
noxious lines  some  were  written  by 
Rohei't  Penfold,  and  she  had  so  little 
of  his  dear  handwriting.  "  I  feel  you 
are  right,  Arthur,"  said  she;  "but 
you  must  give  me  time.  Then,  they 
shall  meet  no  eye  but  mine  ;  and  on 
our  wedding-day  —  of  course  —  all 
memorials  of  one — "  Tears  com- 
pleted the  sentence. 

Arthur  ^Yardlaw,  raging  with 
jealousy  at  the  absent  Penfold,  as 
heretofore  Penfold  had  raged  at  him, 
heaved  a  deep  sigh  and  hurried  away, 
while  flelen  was  locking  up  the 
prayer-book  in  licr  desk.  By  this 
means  he  retained  Helen's  pity. 

He  went  home  directly,  mounted  to 
his  bedroom,  unlocked  a  safe,  and 
plunged  his  hand  into  it.  His  hand 
encountered  a  book  ;  he  drew  it  out 
with  a  shiver,  and  gazed  at  it  with 
terror  and  amazement. 

It  was  the  pra3^er-book  he  had 
picked  up  in  the  Square  and  locked 
up  in  that  safe.  Yet  that  very  prayer- 
book  had  been  restored  to  Helen  be- 
fore his  eyes,  and  was  now  locked  up 
in  her  desk.  He  sat  down  with  the 
book  in  iiis  hand,  and  a  great  dread 
came  over  him. 

Hitherto  Candor  and  Credulity 
only  had  been  opposed  to  him,  but 
now  Cunning  had  entered  the  field 
against  him  ;  a  master-hand  was  co- 
operating with  Helen. 

Yet,  strange  to  say,  she  seemed  un- 
cons'.'ious  of  that  co-operation.  Had 
Robert  Penfold  found  his  way  home 
by  some  strange  means  ?  Was  he 
watching  over  her  in  secret  T 


He  had  the  woman  he  loved 
watched  night  and  day,  but  no 
Robert  Penfold  was  detected. 

He  ])uzzlcd  his  brain  night  and  day, 
and  at  last  he  conceived  a  plan  of  de- 
ceit which  is  common  enough  in  the 
East,  where  Lying  is  one  of  the  fine 
arts,  but  was  new  in  this  country,  we 
believe,  and  we  hope  to  Heaven  we 
shall  not  be  the  means  of  import- 
ing it. 

An  old  clerk  of  his  father's,  now 
superannuated  and  pensioned  otf,  had 
a  son  upon  the  stage,  in  a  very  mean 
position.  Once  a  year,  however,  and 
of  course  in  the  dog-days,  he  had 
a  kind  of  benefit  at  his  suburban 
theatre ;  that  is  to  say,  the  manager 
allowed  him  to  sell  tickets,  and  take 
half  the  price  of  them.  He  persuaded 
Arthur  to  take  some,  and  even  to  go 
to  the  theatre  for  an  hour.  The  man 
plajed  a  little  part,  of  a  pompous 
sneak,  with  some  approach  to  Nature. 
He  seemed  at  home. 

Arthur  found  this  man  out;  visited 
him  at  his  own  place.  He  was  very 
poor,  and  mingled  pomposity  with 
obsequiousness,  so  that  Arthur  felt 
convinced  he  was  to  be  boug'it,  body 
and  soul,  what  there  was  of  him. 

He  sounded  him  accordingly,  and 
the  result  was  that  the  man  .agreed  to 
perform  a  part  for  him. 

Arthur  wrote  it,  and  they  rehearsed 
it  together.  As  to  the  dialogue,  that 
was  so  constructed  that  it  could  be 
varied  considerably  according  to  the 
cues,  which  could  be  foreseen  to  a 
certain  extent;  .but  not  precisely, 
since  they  were  to  be  given  by  Helen 
Rolleston,  who  was  not  in  the  se- 
cret. 

Birt  whilst  this  plot  was  fermenting, 
other  events  happened,  with  rather  a 
contrary  tendency  ;  and  these  will  be 
more  intelligible  if  we  go  back  to 
Nancy  Rouse's  cottage,  where  indeed 
we  have  kept  Joseph  Wylie  in  an 
uncomfortable  position  a  very  long 
time. 

Mrs.  James,  from  next  door,  was  at 
last  admitted  into  Nancy's  kitchen, 
and  her  first  word  was,  "I  suppose 


232 


FOUL  PLAY. 


you  know  what  I  'm  come  about, 
mu'ani." 

"  Which  it  is  to  return  me  the  sass- 
pan  you  borrowed,  no  doubt,"  was 
Nancy's  in;;eiuious  reply. 

"  No  ma'am.  But  I  '11  send  my 
girl  in  with  it,  as  soon  as  she  have 
cleaned  it,  you  may  depend." 

"  Thank  ye,  I  shall  be  glad  to  see 
it  again." 

"  You  're  not  afeard  I  shall  steal  it, 
I  hope  1 " 

"  La,  bless  the  woman  !  don't  fly 
out  at  a  body  like  that.  I  can't 
atford  to  give  away  my  sass-pan." 

"  Sa-ss-pans  is  not  in  my  head." 

"  Nor  in  your  hand  neither." 

"  I  'm  come  about  my  lodger ;  a 
most  respectable  gentleman,  which 
he  have  met  with  an  accident.  He 
did  but  go  to  put  something  away  in 
the  cliimbley,  which  he  is  a  curious 
gent,  and  has  travelled  a  good  deal, 
and  learned  the  foreign  customs, 
when  his  hand  was  caught  in  the 
brick-work,  somchows,  and  there  he 
is  hard  and  fast." 

"  Do  you  know  anything  about 
this  1  "  said  Nancy  to  the  mite,  se- 
verely. 

"  No,"  said  the  mite,  with  a  coun- 
tenance of  polished  granite. 

"  La,  bless  me !  "  said  Nancy,  with 
a  sudden  start.  "  Why,  is  she  "talking 
about  the  thief  as  you  and  I  catched 
putting  his  hand  througb  the  wall 
into  my  room,  and  made  him  fast 
again  the  policeman  comes  round  '?  " 

"  Thief!  "  cried  Mrs.  .James  :  "  no 
more  a  thief  than  I  am.  W^hy,  sure 
yon  would  n't  ever  be  so  cruel  ! 
0  dear !  O  dear !  Spite  goes  a  for 
length.  There,  take  an'  kill  me,  do, 
and  then  you  '11  be  easy  in  your  mind. 
Ah,  little  my  ])Oor  father  thought  as 
ever  I  should  come  down  to  letting 
lodgings,  and  being  maltreated  this 
way  !     L  am  —  " 

"  Who  is  a  maltreating  of  ye  ? 
Why,  you  're  dreaming.  Have  a 
drop  o'  gin  ?  " 

"  With  them  as  takes  the  police 
to  my  lodger?  It  would  choke 
me !  " 


"  Well,  have  a  drop,  and  we  '11  see 
about  it." 

"  You  're  very  kind,  ma'am,  I  'm 
sure.  Heaven  knows  1  need  it ! 
Here  's  wishing  you  a  good  husband  ; 
and  towards  burying  all  unkiiulness." 

"  Which  you  means  drounding  of 
it." 

"  Ah,  you  're  never  at  a  loss  for  a 
word,  ma'am,  and  always  in  good 
spirits.  But  your  troubles  is  to 
come,  7'm  a  widdy.  You  will  let 
me  see  what  is  the  matter  with  my 
lodger,  ma'am  ?  " 

"  ^Vhy  not  ?  We  '11  go  and  have  a 
look  at  him." 

Accordingly,  the  three  women  and 
the  mite  ])roceeded  to  the  little  room  ; 
Nancy  turned  the  gas  on,  and  then 
they  inspected  the  imprisoned  hand. 
Mrs.  James  screamed  with  dismay, 
and  Nancy  asked  her  dryly  wliether 
she  was  to  blame  for  seizing  a  hand 
which  had  committed  a  manifest 
tresjiass. 

'•  You  have  got  the  rest  of  his 
body,"  said  she,  "  but  this  here 
hand  belongs  to  me." 

"  Lord,  ma'am,  what  could  he  take 
out  of  your  chimblcy,  without  't  was 
a  handful  of  soot  ?  Do,  pray,  let  me 
loose  him." 

"  Not  till  I  have  said  two  words  to 
him." 

"  But  how  can  you  ?  He  is  n't 
here  to  speak  to,  —  onl}'  a  morsel  of 
him." 

"lean  go  into  your  house  and 
speak  to  him." 

Mrs.  James  demurred  to  that ;  but 
Nancy  stood  firm ;  Mrs.  James 
yielded.  Nancy  whispered  her  myr- 
midons, and,  in  a  few  minutes,  was 
staiidinir  by  the  prisoner,  a  reverend 
])crs()n  in  dark  s])cctaclcs,  and  a  gray 
beard,  that  created  commiseration,  or 
would  have  done  so,  but  that  this 
stroke  of  ill-fortune  had  ai)])arently 
fallen  upon  a  great  philosopher.  He 
had  contrived  to  get  a  seat  under  him, 
and  was  smoking  a  pipe  with  admi- 
rable siiiiq  froid. 

At  sight  of  Nancy,  however,  he 
made  a  slight  motion,  as  if  he  would 


FOUL  PLAY. 


233 


not  object  to  follow  his  imprisoned 
hand  through  the  party  wall.  It  was 
only  for  a  moment ;  the  next,  he 
smoked  imperturbably. 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  Naney,  "  I  hopes 
you  are  comfonable  ?  " 

"  Thank  ye,  miss  ;  yes.  I  'm  at  a 
double  sheet-anchor." 

"  Why  do  you  call  me  miss  1 " 

"  I  don't  know.  Because  you  are 
so  j'oung  and  pretty." 

''  That  will  do.  I  only  wanted  to 
hear  the  sound  of  your  voice,  Joe 
Wylie."  And  with  the  word  she 
snatched  his  wig  oiF  with  one  hand, 
and  his  beard  with  the  other,  and  re- 
■\'ealed  his  true  featiircs  to  his  aston- 
ished landlady. 

"  There,  mum,"  said  she,  "  I  wish 
you  joy  of  your  lodger."  She  tapped 
the  chimney  three  times  with  the 
poker,  and,  telling  Mv.  Wylie  she  had 
a  few  words  to  say  to  him  in  private, 
retii"ed  for  the  present.  Mrs.  James 
sat  down  and  mourned  the  wicked- 
ness of  mankind,  the  loss  of  her 
lodger  (who  would  now  go  bodily  next 
door  instead  of  sending  his  hand), 
and  the  better  days  she  had  by  it- 
eration brought  herself  to  believe 
she  had  seen. 

Wylie  soon  entered  Nancy's  house, 
and  her  first  question  was,  "The 
£  2,000,  how  did  you  get  them  ?  " 

"  No  matter  how  I  got  them,"  said 
Wylie,  sulkily.  ''  What  have  you 
done  with  them  ?  " 

"  Put  them  away." 

"  That  is  all  right.  I  'm  blest  if  I 
did  n't  think  they  were  gone  forever." 

"  I  wish  they  had  never  come.  Ill- 
gotten  money  is  a  curse."  Then  she 
taxed  him  with  scuttling  the  Proser- 
pine, and  asked  him  whether  that 
money  had  not  been  the  bribe.  But 
Joe  was  obdurate.  "  I  never  split  on 
a  friend,"  said  he.  "  And  you  have 
nobody  to  blame  but  yourself,  you 
would  n't  splice  without  £  2,000.  I 
loved  you,  and  I  got  it  how  I  coukl. 
D'  ye  think  a  poor  fellow  like  me  can 
make  .£2,000  in  a  voyage  by  hauling 
in  ropes,  and  tying  true-lovers'  knots 
in  the  foretop  1  " 


Nancy  had  her  answer  ready  ;  but 
this  remembrance  pricked  her  own 
conscience  and  paved  the  way  to  a 
reconciliation.  Nancy  had  no  high- 
flown  notions.  She  loved  money,  but 
it  must  be  got  without  palpable  dis- 
honesty ;  pe7-  contra,  she  was  not  going 
to  denounce  her  sweetheart,  but  then, 
again  she  would  not  many  him  so 
long  as  he  differed  with  her  about  the 
meaning  of  the  eighth  commandment. 

This  led  to  many  arguments,  some 
of  them  warm,  some  attectionate ;  and 
so  we  leave  Mr.  Wylie  under  the  slow 
but  salutary  influence  of  love  and  un- 
pretending probity.  He  continued  to 
lodge  next  door.  Nancy  would  only 
receive  him  as  a  visitor. 


CHAPTER  LXVII. 

Helen  had  complained  to  Arthur, 
of  all  people,  that  she  was  watclied 
and  followed;  she  even  asked  him 
whether  that  was  not  the  act  of  some 
enemy.  Arthur  smiled,  and  said: 
"  Take  my  word  for  it,  it  is  only  some 
foolish  admirer  of  your  beauty;  he 
wants  to  know  your  habits,  in  hopes 
of  falling  in  with  you  ;  you  had  bet- 
ter let  me  go  out  with  you  for  the 
next  month  or  so  ;  that  sort  of  thing 
will  soon  die  away." 

As  a  necessary  consequence  of 
this  injudicious  revelation,  Helen  was 
watched  with  greater  skill  and  sub- 
tlety, and  upon  a  plan  weil  calcu- 
lated to  disarm  suspicion ;  a  spy 
watched  the  door,  and  by  a  signal 
unintelligible  to  any  but  his  confed- 
erate, whom  Helen  could  not  possibly 
see,  set  the  latter  on  her  track.  They 
kept  this  game  up  unobserved  for  sev- 
eral days,  but  learned  nothing,  for 
Helen  was  at  a  stand-still.  At  last 
they  got  caught,  and  by  a  truly  fem- 
inine stroke  of  observation.  A  show- 
ily di'essed  man  peeped  into  a  shop 
where  Helen  was  buying  gloves. 

With  one  glance  of  her  woman's 
eye  she  recognized  a  large  breastpin 
in  the  worst  possible  taste;    thence 


234 


FOUL   PLAY. 


hor  eye  went  up  and  recognized  the 
features  of  her  seedy  follower,  though 
he  was  novr  dressed  up  to  the  nine. 
She  withdrew  lier  eye  directly,  com- 
pleted her  purchase,  and  went  honac, 
brooding  defence  and  vengeance. 

That  evening  she  dined  with  a  lady 
who  had  a  large  ac(iuaintanee  with 
lawyers,  and  it  so  hajipened  that  Mr. 
Tollemachc  and  Mr.  llcnnessy  were 
both  of  the  party.  Now,  when  these 
gentlemen  saw  Helen  in  full  costume, 
a  queen  in  lorm  as  well  as  face,  coro- 
netedwith  her  island  pearls,  environed 
witli  a  halo  of  romance,  and  courted 
by  women  as  well  as  men,  they  looked 
up  to  her  with  astonishment,  and 
made  up  to  her  in  a  very  different 
style  from  that  in  which  they  had  re- 
ceived her  visit.  Tollemachc  she  re- 
ceived coldly ;  he  had  defended  I\ob- 
ert  Penfold  feebly,  and  she  hated  him 
for  it.  Hennessy  she  received  gra- 
ciously, and,  remembering  Robert's 
precept  to  be  supple  as  a  M-oman, 
bewitched  him.  He  was  good- 
natured,  able,  and  vain.  By  eleven 
o'clock  she  had  enlisted  liim  in  her 
service.  When  she  had  conquered 
liim,  she  said,  slyly,  "  But  I  ought 
not  to  speak  of  these  things  to  you 
except  thi-ough  a  solicitor." 

"  That  is  the  general  rule,"  said 
the  learned  counsel ;  ■"  but  in  this 
case  no  dark  body  must  come  between 
me  and  the  sun." 

In  short  he  entered  into  Penfold's 
case  with  such  well-feigned  warmth, 
to  please  the  beauteous  girl,  that  at 
last  she  took  him  by  the  horns  and 
consulted. 

"  I  am  followed,"  said  she. 

"  I  have  no  doubt  you  are ;  and  on 
a  large  scale ;  if  there  is  room  for 
another,  I  shoidd  be  glad  to  join  the 
train." 

"  Ha !  ha !  I  '11  save  you  the 
trouble.  I  '11  meet  you  half-way. 
But,  to  be  serious,  1  am  watched, 
spied,  and  follow-ed  by  some  enemy 
to  that  good  friend  whose  sacred 
cause  Ave  have  undertaken.  Forgive 
me  for  saying  '  we.'  " 

"  1  am  too  ]u-oud  of  the  compan- 


ionship to  let  you  off.  '  We '  is  the 
word." 

"  Then  advise  me  what  to  do.  I 
want  to  retaliate.  I  want  to  discover 
who  is  watching  me,  and  M'hy.  Can 
you  advise  me  "(     Will  yon  !  " 

The  counsel  reflected  a  moment, 
and  Helen,  who  watched  him,  re- 
marked the  ])Ower  tliat  suddenly  came 
into  his  countenance  and  brow. 

"  You  must  watch  the  spies.  I 
have  influence  in  Scotland  Yard,  and 
will  get  it  done  for  you.  If  you  went 
there  yourself,  they  would  cross-ex- 
amine you  and  decline  to  interfere. 
I  '11  go  myself  for  you  and  put  it  in 
a  certain  light.  An  able  detective 
will  call  on  you  :  give  him  ten  guineas, 
and  let  him  into  your  views  in  con- 
fidence ;  then  he  will  work  the  public 
machinery  for  you." 

"  0  Mr.  Hennessy,  how  can  I 
thank  you  ?  " 

"  By  succeeding.  I  hate  to  fail : 
and  now  your  cause  is  mine." 

Next  day  a  man  with  a  hooked 
nose,  a  keen  black  eye,  and  a  solitary 
foible  (Mosaic),  called  05  Helen 
Rolleston,  and  told  her  he  was  to  take 
her  instructions.  She  told  him  she 
was  watched,  and  thought  it  was 
done  to  baftle  a  mission  she  had  un- 
dertaken ;  but,  having  got  so  far,  she 
blushed  and  hesitated. 

"  The  more  you  tell  me,  miss,  the 
more  use  I  can  be,"  said  Mr.  Burt. 

Thus  encouraged,  and  also  remem- 
bering ]\Ir.  Hennessy's  advice,  she 
gave  Mr.  Burt,  as  coldly  as  she  could, 
an  outline  of  Kobcrt  Penfold's  case, 
and  of  the  exertions  she  had  made, 
and  the  small  result. 

Burt  listened  keenly,  and  took  a 
note  or  two  ;  and,  when  she  had  done, 
he  told  her  something  in  return. 

"  Miss  Rolleston,"  said  he,  "  I  am 
the  officer  that  arrested  J?obcrt  Pen- 
fold.  It  cost  me  a  grinder  that  he 
knocked  out." 

"  O  dear !  "  said  Helen,  "  how  un- 
fortunate !  Then  I  fear  I  cannot 
reckon  on  your  services." 

'•  Why  not,  miss  ?  What,  do  3-011 
think  I  hold  spite  against  a  poor  fcl- 


FOUL  PLAY. 


235 


low  for  defending  himself  ?  Besides, 
Mr.  Penfold  wrote  me  a  very  proper 
note.  Certainly  for  a  parson  tlie  gent 
is  a  very  quick  liittcr ;  Init  he  wrote 
A'ery  square ;  said  lie  hoped  I  would 
allow  for  the  surprise  and  the  agita- 
tion of  an  innocent  man  ;  sent  me 
two  guineas  too,  and  said  he  would 
make  it  twenty  but  he  was  poor  as 
well  as  unfortunate ;  that  letter  has 
stuck  in  my  gizzard  ever  since  ;  can't 
see  the  color  of  felony  in  it.  Your 
felon  is  never  in  a  foult ;  and,  if  he 
wears  a  good  coat,  he  is  n't  given  to 
show  fight." 

"  It  was  very  improper  of  him  to 
strike  you,"  said  Helen,  "  and  very 
noble  of  you  to  forgive  it.  Make  him 
still  more  ashamed  of  it ;  lay  him  un- 
der a  deep  obligation." 

"  If  he  is  innocent,  I  '11  try  and 
prove  it,"  said  the  Detective.  He 
then  asked  her  if  she  had  taken  notes. 
She  said  she  had  a  diary.  He  begged 
to  see  it.  She  felt  inclined  to  with- 
hold it,  because  of  the  comments ; 
but,  remembering  that  this  was  wo- 
manish, and  that  Robert's  orders  to 
hei"  were  to  be  manly  on  such  occa- 
sions, she  produced  her  diary.  Mr. 
Burt  read  it  very  carefully,  and  told 
her  it  was  a  very  promising  case. 
"  You  have  done  a  great  deal  more 
than  you  tiiought,"  he  said.  "  You 
have  netted  thejish." 


CHAPTER    LXVIII. 

"  I !  NETTED  the  fish  !  what  fish  ?  " 

"  The  man  who  forged  the  promis- 
sory note." 

"0  Mr.  Burt!" 

"  The  same  man  that  forged  the 
newspaper  extracts  to  deceive  you 
forged  the  promissory  note  years  ago, 
and  the  man  who  is  setting  spies  on 
you  is  the  man  who  forged  those  ex- 
tracts ;  so  we  are  sure  to  nail  him. 
He  is  in  the  net ;  and  very  much  to 
your  credit.  Leave  the  rest  to  me, 
I  '11  tell  you  more  about  it  to-morrow. 
You  must  order  your  carriage  at  one 
o'clock  to-morrow  and  drive  down  to 


Scotland  Yard  ;  go  into  the  yard,  and 
you  will  see  me  ;  follow  me  without 
a  word.  When  you  go  back,  the 
other  s])ies  will  be  so  frightened,  they 
will  go  otf  to  their  employer,  and  so 
we  shall  nail  him." 

Helen  complied  with  these  instruc- 
tions strictly,  and  then  returned  home, 
leaving  Mr.  Burt  to  work.  She  had 
been  home  about  half  an  hour,  when 
the  servant  brought  her  tip  a  message 
saying  that  a  man  wanted  to  speak  to 
her.  "  Admit  him,"  said  Helen. 
"  He  is  dressed  very  poor,  miss." 
"Never  mind;  send  him  to  me." 
She  was  afraid  to  reject  anybod}-  now, 
lest  she  might  turn  her  back  on  infor- 
mation. 

A  man  presented  himself  in  well- 
worn  clothes,  with  a  wash-leather 
f;ice  and  close-shaven  chin ;  a  little 
of  his  forehead  was  also  shaven. 
"  IMadam,  my  name  is  Hand."  Hel- 
en started.  "  I  have  already  had  the 
honor  of  writing  to  you." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Helen,  eying  him 
with  fear  and  aversion. 

"  JNIadam,  I  am  come  "  —  (he  hesi- 
tated) —  "I  am  an  unfortunate  man. 
Weighed  down  by  remorse  for  a 
thoughtless  act  that  has  ruined  an 
innocent  man,  and  nearly  cost  my 
worthy  employer  his  life,  I  come  to 
expiate  as  far  as  in  me  lies.  But  let 
me  be  brief,  and  hurry  over  the  tale 
of  shame.  I  was  a  clerk  at  Wardlaw's 
office.  A  bill-broker  called  Adams 
was  talking  to  me  and  mj^  fellow- 
clerks,  and  boasting  that  nobody 
could  take  him  in  with  a  feigned  sig- 
nature. Bets  were  laid  ;  our  vanity 
was  irritated  by  his  pretension.  It 
was  my  fortune  to  overhear  my  young 
master  and  his  friend  Robert  Penfold 
speak  about  a  loan  of  two  thousand 
pounds.  In  an  evil  hour  I  listened 
to  the  tempter,  and  wrote  a  forged 
note  for  that  amount.  I  took  it  to 
Mr.  Penfold ;  he  presented  it  to 
Adams,  and  it  was  cashed.  I  intend- 
ed, of  course,  to  call  next  day,  and 
tell  Mr.  Penfold,  and  take  him  to 
Adams,  and  restore  the  money,  and 
get  back  the  note.    It  was  not  due  for 


23  G 


FOUL  PLAY. 


three  moTiths.  Alas!  that  very  day 
it  fell  under  suspieion.  Mr.  Penfold 
was  arrested,  i\Iy  young'  master  was 
stniek  down  with  illness  at  his  friend's 
guilt,  thou<;h  he  never  could  be  quite 
got  to  believe  it ;  and  I  —  miserable 
coward! — dared  not  tell  the  truth. 
Ever  since  that  day  I  have  been  a 
miserable  man.  The  other  day  I 
came  into  mone\',  and  left  Wardlaw's 
service.  But  I  carry  my  remorse 
with  mc.  Madam,  I  am  come  to  tell 
the  truth.  I  dare  not  tell  it  to  2\h: 
Wardhiw  ;  I  think  he  would  kill  me. 
But  I  will  tell  it  to  you,  and  you  can 
tell  it  to  him;  ay,' tell  it  to"  all  the 
world.  Let  my  shame  he  as  ])ublic 
as  his  whom  I  have  injured  so  deeply, 
but,  Heaven  knows,  unintentionallv. 
I-I-I-" 

]\Ir.  Hand  sank  all  in  a  heap  where 
he  sat,  and  could  say  no  more. 

Helen's  tlesh  crawled  at  this  con- 
fession, and  at  the  sight  of  this  reptile 
who  owned  that  he  had  destroyed 
Kobert  Penfold  in  fear  and  cowardice. 
For  a  long  time  her  wrath  so  over- 
powered all  sense  of  pity,  that  she  sat 
trembling ;  and,  if  eyes  could  kill, 
Mr.  Hand  would  not  have  outlived 
his  confession. 

At  last  she  contrived  to  speak. 
She  turned  her  head  away  not  to 
sec  the  wretch,  and  said,  sternh', — 

"Are  you  prepared  to  make  this 
statement  on  paper,  if  called  on  ?  " 

Mr.  Hand  hesitated,  but  said, 
"  Yes." 

"  Then  write  down  that  Robert 
Penfold  w'as  innocent,  and  you  are 
ready  to  j)rovc  it  whenever  you  may 
be  c.'dled  upon." 

"  Write  that  down  ?  "  said  Hand. 

"  Unless  your  penitence  is  feigned, 
you  will." 

"  Sooner  than  that  should  be  added 
to  my  crime  I  will  avow  all."  He 
wrote  the  few  lines  she  required. 

"  Now  your  address,  that  I  may 
know  where  to  find  you  at  a  mo- 
incni's  notice."  He  wrote,  "J.Hand, 
11  Warwick  Street,  Pimlico." 

Helen  tlvn  dismissed  him,  and 
wept  bitterly.    In  that  condition  she 


was  found  by  Arthur  Wardlaw,  who 
comforted  her,  and,  on  bearing  her 
report  of  Hand's  confession,  burst  out 
into  triumph,  and  reminded  her  he 
had  always  said  Robert  Penfold  was 
innocent.  "My  father,"  said  he, 
"  must  yield  to  this  evidence,  and  wc 
will  lay  it  before  the  Secretary  of 
State,  and  get  his  pardon." 

"  His  pardon !  when  he  is  in- 
nocent !  " 

"0,  that  is  the  form, — the  only 
form.  The  rest  must  be  done  by  the 
warm  reception  of  his  friends.  I,  for 
one,  who  all  these  years  have  main- 
tained his  innocence,  will  be  the  first 
to  welcome  him  to  my  house  an  hon- 
ored guest.  What  am  I  saying  ? 
Can  I  ■?  dare  I  ?  ought  I  ?  when  my 
wife —  Ah  !  I  am  more  to  be  pitied 
than  my  poor  friend  is  :  my  friend, 
my  rival.  Well,  I  leave  it  to  you 
whether  he  can  come  into  your  hus- 
band's house." 

"Never." 

"  But,  at  least,  I  can  send  the 
Springbok  out,  and  bring  him  home  ; 
and  that  I  will  do  without  one  day's 
delay." 

"  O  Arthur  !  "  cried  Helen,  "you 
set  me  an  example  of  unselfishness." 

"  I  do  what  1  can  "  said  Arthur. 
"  I  am  no  saint.  I  hope  for  a  reward." 

Helen  sighed.  '•  What  shall  I  do  ?  " 

"Have  pity  on  me!  your  faithful 
lover,  and  to  whom  your  faith  was 
plighted  before  ever  you  saw  or  knew 
my  unha])j)y  friend.  What  can  I  do 
or  sutler  more  than  I  have  done  and 
siiflfered  for  you  ?  JNIy  sweet  Helen, 
have  pity  on  me,  and  be  my  wife." 

"  I  will  ;  some  day." 

"  Bless  you  :  bless  you.  One  effort 
more  :  what  day  t  " 

"  I  can't.  I  can't.  My  heart  is 
dead." 

"  This  day  fortnight.  Let  me 
speak  to  your  father  :  let  him  name 
the  day." 

As  she  made  no  reply,  he  kissed 
her  hand  devotedly,  and  did  sj)cak  to 
her  father.  Sir  Edward,  meaning  all 
for  the  best,  said,  "  This  day  fort- 
night." 


FOUL  PLAY. 


237 


CHAPTEE  LXIX. 

The  next  morning  came  the  first 
wedding  presents  from  the  jubilant 
bridcgToom,  who  was  determined  to 
advance  step  by  step,  and  give  no 
breathing  time.  When  Helen  saw 
them  laid  out  by  her  maid,  she  trem- 
bled at  the  consequences  of  not 
giving  a  plump  negative  to  so  brisk  a 
wooer. 

The  second  post  brought  two 
letters ;  one  of  them  from  Mrs. 
Undercliff.  The  other  contained  no 
words,  but  only  a  pearl  of  uncommon 
size,  and  pear-shaped.  Helen  received 
this  at  iirst  as  another  wedding  pres- 
ent, and  an  attempt  on  Arthur's  part 
to  give  her  a  pearl  as  large  as  those 
she  had  gathered  on  her  dear  island. 
But,  looking  narrowly  at  the  address, 
she  saw  it  was  not  written  by  Arthur ; 
and,  presently,  she  was  struck  by  the 
likeness  of  this  pearl  in  shape  to  some 
of  her  own.  She  got  out  her  pearls, 
laid  them  side  by  side,  and  began  to 
be  moved  exceedingly.  She  had  one 
of  her  instincts,  and  it  set  every  fibre 
quivering  with  excitement.  It  was 
some  time  before  she  could  take  her 
eyes  ofl^  the  pearls,  and  it  was  with  a 
trembling  hand  she  opened  Mrs. 
Undercliff's  letter.  That  missive  was 
not  calculated  to  calm  her.  It  ran 
thus : — 

"  My  dear  Young  Lady  :  —  A 
person  called  here  last  night  and  sup- 
plied the  clew.  If  you  have  the 
courage  to  know  the  truth,  j'ou  have 
only  to  come  here,  and  to  bring  your 
diary,  and  all  the  letters  you  have 
received  from  any  person  or  persons 
since  you  landed  in  England.  I  am 
yours  obediently, 

"Jane  Undercliff." 

The  courage  to  know  the  truth  I 
This  mysterious  sentence  affected 
Helen  considerably.  Uut  her  faith 
in  Robert  was  too  great  to  be  shaken. 
She  would  not  wait  for  the  canonical 
hour  at  which  young  ladies  go  out, 
but  put  on  her  bonnet  directly  after 


breakfast.  Early  as  she  was,  a 
visitor  came  before  she  could  start,  — 
Mr.  Burt,  the  Detective.  She  received 
him  in  the  library. 

Mr.  Burt  looked  at  her  dress  and 
her  little  bag,  and  said,  "  I  'm  very 
glad  I  made  liold  to  call  so  earl}^" 

"  You  have  got  information  of 
importance  to  communicate  to 
me?" 

"  I  think  so,  miss  "  ;  and  he  took 
out  his  note-book.  "  The  person  you 
are  watched  by  is  Mr.  Arthur  Ward- 
law."  The  girl  stared  at  him. 
"  Both  spies  report  to  him  twice  a 
day  at  his  house  in  Russell  Square." 

"Be  careful,  Mr.  Burt;  this  is  a 
serious  thing  to  say,  and  may  have 
serious  consequences." 

"  Well,  miss,  you  told  me  yoa 
wanted  to  know  the  truth." 

"Of  course  I  want  to  know  the 
truth." 

"  Then  the  truth  is  that  you  are 
watched  by  order  of  Mr.  Wardlaw." 

Burt  continued  his  report. 

"  A  shabby-like  man  called  on  you 
yesterday." 

"  Yes";  it  was  Mr.  Hand,  Mr. 
Wardlaw's  clerk.  And  O  Mr.  Burt, 
that  wretched  creature  came  and 
confessed  the  truth.  It  was  he  who 
forged  the  note,  out  of  sport,  and  for 
a  bet,  and  then  was  too  cowardly  to 
own  it."  She  then  detailed  Hand's 
confession. 

"  His  penitence  comes  too  late," 
said  she,  with  a  deep  sigh. 

"  It  has  n't  come  yet,"  said  Burt, 
dryly.  "  Of  course  my  lambs  fol- 
lowed the  man.  He  went  first  to  his 
employer,  and  then  he  Avent  home. 
His  name  is  not  Hand  He  is  not  a 
clerk  at  all,  but  a  little  actor  at  the 
Corinthian  Saloon.  Hand  is  in 
America ;  went  three  months  ago. 
I  ascertained  that  from  another  quar- 
ter." 

"  0  goodness  !  "  cried  Helen, 
"  what  a  wretched  world  !  I  can't 
see  my  way  a  yard  for  stories." 

"  How  should  you,  miss  ?  It  is 
clear  enough,  for  all  that.  Mr. 
Wardlaw  hired  this  actor  to  pass  for 


238 


FOUL  PLAY. 


Hand,  and  tell  you  a  lie  that  he 
thought  would  ])lca»e  you." 

Helen  jjut  her  liand  to  her  brow, 
and  tliought ;  but  her  caiulid  soul  got 
sadly  in  the  way  of  her  brain.  "  ^Ir. 
Burt,"  said  she,  "  will  you  go  with 
mc  to  Mr.  Undercliir  thcE.xpert?  " 

"  AVith  pleasure,  ma'am ;  but  let 
me  finish  my  report.  Last  night 
there  was  something  new.  Your 
house  was  watched  by  six  persons. 
Two  were  Wardlaw's,  three  were 
Burt's ;  but  the  odd  man  was  there 
on  his  own  hook  ;  and  my  men  could 
not  make  him  out  at  all ;  but  they 
think  one  of  AVardlaw's  men  knew 
him;  for  he  went  off  to  Russell 
Square  like  the  wind,  and  brought 
Mr.  Wardlaw  here  in  disguise.  Now, 
miss,  that  is  all ;  and  sliall  I  call  a 
cab,  and  we  '11  hear  Undercliffs  talc  ?  " 

The  cab  was  called,  and  they  went 
to  UndcrclifF.  On  the  way  Helen 
brooded ;  but  the  Detective  eyed 
every  man  and  everything  on  the 
road  with  the  utmost  keenness. 

Edward  Undercliff  was  at  Mork  at 
lithographing.  He  received  Helen 
cordially,  nodded  to  Burt,  and  said 
she  could  nut  have  a  better  assistant. 

He  then  laid  his  fac-siniile  of  the 
forged  note  on  the  table,  with  John 
Wardlaw's  genuine  writing  and  Pen- 
fold's  indorsement.  "Look  at  that, 
Mr.  Burt." 

Burt  inspected  the  papers  keenly. 

"  You  know,  Burt,  I  swore  at  Rob- 
ert Penfold's  trial  that  he  never  wrote 
that  forged  note." 

"  I  remember,"  said  Burt. 

"  The  other  day  this  lady  instruct- 
ed me  to  discover,  if  I  could,  who  did 
write  the  forged  note.  But,  unfortu- 
nately, the  materials  she  gave  mc 
were  not  sufficient.  But,  last  night, 
a  young  man  drojipcd  from  the  clouds, 
that  I  made  sure  was  an  agent  of 
yours,  Miss  Rollcston.  Under  that 
im)U'ession  I  was  rather  unguarded, 
and  I  let  bim  know  how  far  we  liad 
got,  and  could  get  no  further.  '  I 
think  I  can  helj)  you,'  says  this  young 
man,  and  puts  a  letter  on  the  table. 
Well,  Mr.   Burt,  a    glance    at    that 


letter  was  enough  for  me.  It  was 
written  by  the  man  who  forged  the 
note." 

"  A  letter !  "  said  Helen. 

"  Y'es.  1  '11  put  the  letter  by  the 
side  of  the  forged  note  ;  and,  if  you 
have  any  eye  for  writing  at  all,  you'll 
see  at  once  that  one  hand  wrote  the 
forged  note  and  this  letter.  I  am 
also  ])re])ared  to  swear  that  the  letters 
signed  Hand  arc  forgeries  by  the  same 
])erson."  He  then  coolly  put  ujjon 
the  table  the  letter  from  Arthur 
Wardlaw  that  Helen  had  received  on 
board  the  Proserpine,  and  was  pro- 
ceeding to  point  out  the  many  points 
of  resemblance  between  the  letter  and 
the  document,  when  he  was  interrupt- 
ed by  a  scream  from  Helen. 

"Ah!"  she  cried,  "he  is  here. 
Only  one  man  in  the  world  could 
have  brought  that  letter.  I  left  it  on 
the  island.  Robert  is  here :  he  gave 
you  that  letter." 

"  Y^ou  are  right,"  said  the  Expert, 
"  and  what  a  fool  I  must  be  !  I  have 
no  eye  except  for  handwriting.  He 
had  a  beard  :  and  such  a  beard  !  " 

"  It  is  Robert ! "  cried  Helen,  in 
raptures.    "  He  is  come  just  in  time." 

"  In  time  to  be  arrested,"  said  Burt. 
"  Why,  his  time  is  not  out.  He  '11 
get  into  trouble  again." 

"  0,  Heaven  forbid  !  "  cried  Helen, 
and  turned  so  faint  she  had  to  be  laid 
back  on  a  chair,  and  salts  applied  to 
her  nostrils. 

She  soon  came  to,  and  cried  and 
trembled,  but  prepared  to  defend  her 
Robert  with  all  a  woman's  wit.  Burt 
and  UnderclitF  were  conversing  in  a 
low  voice,  and  Burt  was  saying  he  felt 
sure  Wardlaw's  spies  had  detected 
Robert  Penfold,  and  that  Robert 
would  be  arrested  and  i)ut  into  pri.son 
as  a  runaway  convict.  "  Go  to  Scot- 
land Yard  this  minute,  Mr.  Burt." 
said  Helen,  eagerlv. 

"What  for  7" 

"  Why,  you  must  take  the  com- 
mission to  arrest  him.  Y'ou  arc  our 
friend." 

Burt  slapped  his  thigh  with  delight 

"  That  is  first-rate,  miss,"  said  he: 


FOUL  PLAY. 


239 


"  I  '11  take  the  real  felon,  iirst,  yon 
mav  depend.  Now,  Mr  UndcrelilV, 
write  your  report,  and  hand  it  to  Miss 
Helen  with  fac-similes.  It  will  do  no 
harm  if  you  make  a  declaration  to  the 
same  etfect  before  a  magistrate.  Yon, 
Miss  KoUeston,  keep  yourself  dis- 
engaged, and  please  don't  go  out. 
You  will  very  likely  hear  from  me 
again  to-day." 

He  drove  off,  and  Helen,  thongh 
still  greatly  agitated  by  Robert's 
danger  and  the  sense  of  his  presence, 
now  sat  down,  trembling  a  little,  and 
compared  Arthur's  letter  with  the 
forged  document.  The  etfect  of  this 
comparison  was  irresistible.  The 
Expert,  however,  asked  her  for  some 
letter  of  Arthur's  that  had  never 
passed  through  Robert  Penfold's 
bands.  She  gave  him  the  short 
note  in  which  he  used  the  very  words, 
Robert  Penfold.  He  said  he  would 
make  that  note  the  basis  of  his  re- 
port. 

While  he  was  writing  it,  Mrs.  Un- 
derclitf  came  in,  and  Helen  told  her 
all.  She  said,  "  I  came  to  the  same 
conclusion  long  ago ;  but  when  you 
said  he  was  to  be  your  husband  — " 
"  Ah,"  said  Helen,  "  we  women  are 
poor  creatures ;  we  can  always  find 
some  reason  for  running  away  from 
the  truth.  Now  explain  about  the 
prayer-book." 

"  Well,  miss,  I  felt  sure  he  would 
steal  it,  so  I  made  Ned  produce  a  fac- 
simile. And  he  did  steal  it.  What 
you  got  back  was  your  mother's 
prayer-book.  Of  course  I  took  care 
of  that." 

"  O  Mrs.  UnderclifF,"  cried  Helen, 
"  do  let  me  kiss  you." 

Then  they  had  a  nice  little  cry 
together,  and,  by  the  time  they  had 
dune,  the  report  was  ready  in  du- 
plicate. 

"  I  '11  declare  this  before  a  magis- 
trate," said  the  Expert,  "  and  then 
I  'U  send  it  you." 

At  four  o'clock  of  this  eventful  day, 
Helen  got  a  message  from  Burt  to  say 
that  he  had  orders  to  arrest  Robert 
Penfold,  and  that  she  must  wear  a 


mask,  and  ask  Mr.  Wardlaw  to  meet 
her  at  old  Mr.  Penfold's  at  nine 
o'clock.  But  she  herself  must  be 
there  at  half  past  eight,  without  fail, 
and  bring  Underclitf's  declaration  and 
report  with  her,  and  the  prayer-book, 
etc. 

Accordingly  Helen  went  down  to 
old  Mr.  Penfold's  at  half  past  eight, 
and  was  received  by  Nancy  Rouse, 
and  ushered  into  Mr.  Penfold's 
room;  that  is  to  say,  Nancy  held 
the  door  open,  and,  on  her  entering 
the  room,  shut  it  sharply  and  ran 
down  stairs. 

Helen  entered  the  room ;  a  man 
rose  directly,  and  came  to  her;  but 
it  was  not  Michael  Penfold,  —  it  was 
Robert.  A  faint  scream,  a  heaven- 
ly sigh,  and  her  head  was  on  his 
shoulder,  and  her  arm  round  his 
neck,  and  both  their  hearts  panting 
as  they  gazed,  and  then  clung  to 
each  other,  and  then  gazed  again 
with  love  unutterable.  After  a  while 
they  got  sutlicient  composure  to  sit 
down  hand  in  hand  and  compare 
notes.  And  Helen  showed  him  their 
weapons  of  defence,  the  prayer-book, 
the  Expert's  report,  etc. 

A  discreet  tap  was  heard  at  the 
door.  It  was  Nancy  Rouse.  On 
being  invited  to  enter,  she  came  in 
and  said,  "  0  Miss  Helen,  I  've  got  a 
penitent  outside,  which  he  done  it  for 
love  of  me,  and  now  he  '11  make  a 
clean  breast,  and  the  fault  was  partly 
mine.  Come  in,  Joe,  and  speak  for 
yourself." 

On  this,  Joe  Wylie  came  in,  hang- 
ing his  head  piteously. 

"  She  is  right,  sir,"  said  he ;  "I 'm 
come  to  ask  your  pardon  and  the 
lady's.  Not  as  I  ever  meant  you  any 
harm  ;  but  to  destroy  the  ship,  it  was 
a  bad  act,  and  I  've  never  throve 
since.  Nance,  she  have  got  the 
money.  I  '11  give  it  back  to  the  un- 
derwriters ;  and,  if  you  and  the  lady 
will  forgive  a  poor  fellow  that  was 
tempted  with  love  and  money,  why, 
I  'II  stand  to  the  truth  for  you, 
though  it's  a  bitter  pill." 

"  t  forgive  you,"     said    Robert ; 


240 


FOUL  PLAY. 


"  and  I  accept  yonr  offer  to  serve 
me." 

"  And  so  do  I,"  said  Helen.  "  In- 
deed, it  is  not  us  you  have  wronged. 
But  O,  I  urn  glad,  for  Nancy's  sake, 
that  you  repent." 

"  Siiss,  I'll  go  through  fire  and 
water  for  you,"  said  Wylie,  lifting  up 
his  head. 

Here  old  Michael  came  in  to  say 
that  Arthur  Wardlaw  was  at  the 
door,  with  a  policeman. 

"  Show  him  in,"  said  Robert. 

"  O  no,  Robert !  "  said  Helen. 
"  He  fills  me  with  horror." 

"  Show  him  in,"  said  Robert,  gen- 
tly.    "  Sit  down,   all  of  you." 

Now  Burt  had  not  told  Arthur  who 
was  in  the  house,  so  he  came,  rather 
uneasy  in  his  mind,  but  still  expect- 
ing only  to  see  Helen. 

Robert  Peufold  told  Helen  to  face 
the  door,  and  the  rest  to  sit  back ; 
and  tills  arrangement  had  not  been 
effected  one  second,  when  Arthur 
came  in,  with  a  lover's  look,  and, 
taking  two  steps  into  the  room,  saw 
the  three  men  waiting  to  receive  him. 
At  sight  of  Penfold,  he  started,  and 
turned  pale  as  ashes  ;  but,  recovering 
himself,  said  :  "  My  dearest  Helen, 
this  is  indeed  an  uncxjiected  pleasure. 
You  will  reconcile  me  to  one  whose 
worth  and  iunocenre  I  never  doubted, 
and  tell  him  I  have  had  some  little 
hand  in  clearing  him."  His  effront- 
ery was  received  in  dead  silence. 
This  struck  cold  to  his  hones,  and, 
being  naturally  weak,  he  got  violent. 
He  said,  "  Allow  me  to  send  a  mes- 
sage to  my  servant." 

He  then  tore  a  leaf  out  of  his  mem- 
orandum-book, wrote  on  it :  "  Rob- 
ert Penfold  is  here  ;  arrest  him  direct- 
ly, and  take  him  away  "  ;  and,  enclos- 
ing this  in  an  envelope,  sent  it  out  to 
Burt  by  Nancy. 

Helen  seated  herself  quietly,  and 
said,  "  Mr.  Wardlaw,  when  did  Mr. 
Hand  go  to  America  ?  " 

Arthur  stannncred  out,  "I  don't 
know  the  exact  date" 

"  Two  or  thiec  months  ago  I  " 

"  Yes." 


"  Then  the  person  yota  sent  to  me 
to  tell  me  that  falsehood  was  not  Mr. 
Hand  ?  " 

"  I  sent  nobody." 

"  O,  for  shame  !  —  for  shame  ! 
Why  have  you  set  spies  1  Why  did 
you  make  away  with  my  prayer- 
book  ;  —  or  what  you  thought  was 
my  prayer-book  ?  Here  (s  my  jirayer- 
book,  that  proves  you  Iiad  the  Pro- 
serpine destroyed  ;  and  I  should  have 
lost  my  life  but  for  another,  whom 
you  had  done  your  best  to  destroj-. 
Look  Robert  Penfold  in  the  face,  if 
30ti  can." 

Arthur's  eyes  began  to  waver.  "  I 
can,"  said  he.  "  I  never  wronged 
him.  I  always  lamented  his  mis- 
fortune." 

"  You  were  not  the  cause  ?  " 

"  Never  !  — so  help  me  Heaven  !  " 

"  Monster  !  "  said  Helen,  turning 
away  in  contempt  and  horror. 

"O,  that  is  it, —  is  it?"  said  Ar- 
thur, wildly.  "  You  break  faith  with 
me  for  him  ?  You  insult  me  for  him  ? 
I  must  bear  anything  from  you,  for  I 
love  you  ;  but,  at  least,  I  will  sweep 
him  out  of  the  path." 

He  ran  to  the  door,  opened  it,  and 
there  was  Burt,  listening.  "  Are  you 
an  officer  1  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  arrest  that  man  this  mo- 
ment :  he  is  Robert  Penfold,  a  con- 
vict returned  before  his  time." 

Burt  came  into  the  room,  locked 
the  door,  and  put  the  key  in  his 
pocket.  "  Well,  sir,"  said  he  to  Rob- 
ert Penfold,  "  I  know  you  are  a  quick 
hitter.  Don't  let  us  have  a  row  over 
it  this  time.  If  you  have  got  any- 
thing to  say,  say  it  quiet  and  com- 
fortable." 

"  I  will  go  with  you  on  one  con- 
dition," said  Robert.  "  You  must 
take  the  felon  as  well  as  the  martyr. 
This  is  the  felon,"  and  he  laid  his 
hand  on  Arthur's  shoulder,  who 
cowered  under  the  touch  at  first,  but 
soon  began  to  act  violent  indigna- 
tion. 

"  Take  the  ruflBan  away  at  once," 
he  cried. 


FOUL  PLAY. 


241 


"What,  before  I  hear  what  he  has 
got  to  saj  "?  " 

"  Would  you  listen  to  him  against 
a  merchant  of  the  city  of  London,  a 
man  of  unblemished  reputation  ?  " 

"  Well,  sir,  you  see  we  have  got  a 
hint  that  you  were  concerned  in  scut- 
tling a  ship ;  and  that  is  a  felony.  So 
I  think  I  '11  just  hear  what  he  has  got 
to  say.  You  need  notyear  any  man's 
tongue  if  you  are  innocent." 

"  Sit  down,  if  you  please,  and  ex- 
amine these  documents,"  said  llobert 
Penfold.  "  As  to  the  scuttling  of  the 
ship,  here  is  the  deposition  of  two 
seamen,  taken  on  their  death-bed,  and 
witnessed  by  Miss  RoUeston  and  my- 
self." 

"  And  that  book  he  tried  to  steal," 
said  Helen. 

Robert  continued  :  "  And  here  is 
Uuderclitf 's  fac-simile  of  the  forged 
note.  Here  are  specimens  of  Arthur 
Wardlaw's  handwriting,  and  here  is 
Uuderclitf 's  report." 

The  Detective  ran  his  eye  hastily 
over  the  report,  which  we  slightly 
condense. 

On  comparing  the  forged  note  with 
genuine  specimens  of  John  "Ward- 
law's  handwi'iting,  no  less  than  twelve 
deviations  from  his  habits  of  writing 
strike  the  eye  ;  and  every  one  of  these 
twelve  deviations  is  a  deviation  into 
a  habit  of  Arthur  Wardlaw,  which  is 
an  amount  of  demonstration  rarely 
attained  in  cases  of  forgery. 

1.  The  capital  L.  —  Compare  in 
London  (foi'ged  note)  with  the  same 
letter  in  London  in  Wardlaw's  letter. 

2.  The  capital  D.  —  Compare 
this  letter  in  "  Date  "  with  the  same 
letter  in  "  Dearest." 

3.  The  capital  T.  —  Compare  it 
in  "  Two"  and  "  ToUemache." 

4.  The  word  "  To  ";  see  "  To  pay," 
in  forged  note  and  third  line  of  letter. 

5.  Small  "o"  formed  with  a  loop 
in  the  up-stroke. 

6.  The  manner  of  finishing  the 
letter  "  v." 

7.  Ditto  the  letter  "  w." 

8.  The  imperfect  formation  of  the 
small    "  a."     This    and    the  looped 

16 


"  o "  run  through  the  forged  note 
and  Arthur  Wardlaw's  letter,  and 
are  habits  entirely  foreign  to  the  style 
of  John  Wardlaw. 

9.  See  the  '•  th  "  in  connection. 

10.  Ditto  the  "of"  in  connection. 

11.  The  incautious  use  of  the  Greek 
e.  John  Wardlaw  never  uses  this  e. 
Arthur  Wardlaw  never  uses  any 
other,  apparently.  The  writer  of  the 
forged  note  began  right,  but,  at  the 
word  Robert  Penfold,  glided  insen- 
sibly into  his  Greek  e,  and  maiu- 
tained  it  to  the  end  of  the  forgery. 
This  looks  as  if  he  was  in  the  habit 
of  writing  those  two  words. 

12.  Compare  the  words  "Robert 
Penfold"  in  the  forged  document 
with  the  same  words  in  the  letter. 
The  similarity  is  so  striking,  that,  on 
these  two  words  alone,  the  writer 
could  be  identified  beyond  a    doubt. 

13.  Gi-eat  pains  were  taken  with 
the  signature,  and  it  is  like  John 
Wardlaw's  writing  on  the  surface; 
but  go  below  the  surface,  and  it  is  all 
Arthur  Wardlaw. 

The  looped  o,  the  small  r,  the  1 
dropping  below  the  d,  the  open  a,  are 
all  Arthur  AYardlaw's.  The  open 
loop  of  the  final  w  is  a  still  bolder  de- 
viation into  A.  W.'s  own  hand.  The 
final  flourish  is  a  curious  mistake. 
It  is  executed  with  skill  and  freedom  ; 
but  the  writer  has  made  the  lower  line 
the  thick  one.  Y^et  John  Wardlaw 
never  does  this. 

How  was  the  deviation  caused? 
Examine  the  final  flourish  in  Arthur 
Wardlaw's  signature.  It  contains  one 
stroke  only,  but  then  that  stroke  is  a 
thick  one.  He  thought  he  had  only 
to  prolong  his  own  stroke  and  bring 
it  round.  He  did  this  extremely  well, 
but  missed  the  deeper  characteristic, 
—  the  thick  upper  stroke.  This  is 
proof  of  a  high  character :  and  al- 
together I  am  quite  prepared  to 
testify  upon  oath  that  the  writer  of 
the  letter  to  Miss  Rolleston,  who 
signs  himself  Arthur  Wardlaw,  is 
the  jjerson  who  forged  the  promis- 
sory note. 

'ro  these  twelve  proofs  one  more 


242 


FOUL  PLAY. 


■was  now  added.  Arthur  TVardlaw 
rpse,  and,  witli  his  knees  knocking 
together,  said,  "  Don't  arrest  him, 
Burt ;  let  him  go." 

"  Don't  let  him  go,"  cried  old  Pen- 
fold.  "A  villain!  I  have  got  the 
number  of  the  notes  from  Benson. 
I  can  prove  he  bribed  this  poor  man 
to  destroy  the  sliip.  Don't  let  him 
go.     lie  has  ruined  my  jioor  boy." 

At  this  Arthur  Wardlaw  began  to 
shriek  for  mercy.  "  O  ^Ir.  I'cnfold," 
said  he,  "  you  are  a  father,  and  hate 
me.  But  think  of  my  father.  1  '11 
say  anything,  do  anything.  .  ^  'jl 
clear  liobert  Tenfold  at  my  own  ex- 
pense. I  have  lost  Iter.  She  loathes 
me  now.  Have  mercy  on  me,  and  let 
me  leave  the  country  !  "  He  cringed 
and  crawled  so  that  he  disartued  an- 
ger, and  substituted  contempt. 

"Ay,"  said  Burt.  "  He  don't  hit 
like  you,  INlr.  Penfold ;  this  is  a  chap 
that  ought  to  have  been  in  Newgate 
long  ago.  But  take  my  advice ;  make 
him  clear  you  on  paper,  and  then  let 
liim  go.  I'll  go  down  stairs  awhile. 
I  must  n't  take  part  in  compounding 
a  felony." 

"  0  yes,  Robert,"  said  Helen,  "  for 
his  father's  sake." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Robert.  "  Now 
then,  reptile,  take  the  pen,  and  write 
in  your  own  hand,  if  you  can." 

He  took  the  pen,  and  wrote  to 
dictation  :  — 

"  I,  Arthur  Wardlaw,  confess  that 
I  forged  the  promissory  note  for 
£  2,000,  and  sent  it  to  Robert  Ten- 
fold, and  that  £  1,400  of  it  was  to  be 
for  my  own  use,  and  to  pay  my  Ox- 
ford debts.  And  I  confess  that  I 
bribed  Wylie  to  scuttle  the  ship  Tro- 
ser])ine  in  order  to  cheat  the  under- 
writers." 

Tenfold  then  turned  to  Wylie,  and 
asked  him  the  true  motive  of  this 
fraud. 

"  Why,  the  gold  was  aboard  the 
Shannon,"  said  Wylie  ;  "  I  ])layed 
hanky-panky  with  the  metals  in 
While's  store." 

"  Tut  that  down,"  said  Penfold. 
"  Now  go  on." 


"  ^lake  a  clean  breast,"  said  Wylie. 
"  I  have.  Say  as  how  you  cooked  the 
Troserpine's  log,  and  forged  Hiram 
Hudson's  writing." 

"  And  the  newspaper  extracts  you 
sent  me,"  said  Helen,  "  and  the  let- 
ters from  ^Lr.  Hand." 

Arthur  groaned.  "  Must  I  tell  all 
that  7  "  said  he. 

"  Every  word,  or  be  indicted,"  said 
Robert  Tenfold,  sternly. 

He  wrote  it  all  down,  and  then  sat 
staring  stupidly.  And  the  next  thing 
was,  he  gave  a  loud  shriek,  and  fell 
on  the  floor  in  a  lit.  They  sprinkled 
water  over  him,  and  Burt  conveyed 
him  home  in  a  cab,  advising  him  to 
leave  the  country,  but  at  the  same 
time  promising  him  not  to  exasperate 
those  he  had  wronged  so  deeply,  but 
rather  to  moderate  them,  if  required. 
Then  he  gave  Burt  tifty  guineas. 

Robert  Tenfold,  at  Helen's  request, 
went  with  her  to  ilr.  Hennessy,  and 
with  the  ])roofs  of  Arthur's  guilt  and 
Robert's  innocence ;  and  he  undertook 
that  the  matter  should  go  in  proper 
form  before  the  Secretary  of  State. 
But,  somehow,  it  transjiired  that  the 
Troserpine  had  been  scuttled,  and 
several  of  the  underwriters  ivrote  to 
the  Wardlaws  to  threaten  proceedings. 
Wardlaw  senior  leturned  but  one 
answer  to  these  gentlemen  :  "  Bring 
your  proofs  to  me  at  my  place  of 
business  next  Monday  at  twelve,  and 
let  me  judge  the  case,  before  you  go 
elsewhere." 

"  That  is  high  and  mighty,"  said 
one  or  two  ;  but  they  conferred,  and 
agreed  to  these  terms,  so  high  stood 
the  old  merchant's  name. 

They  came ;  the\-  were  received 
with  stiff"  courtesy.  The  deposition 
of  Cooper  and  Welch  was  produced, 
and  Wylie,  kej)!  up  to  the  mark  by 
Nancy,  told  the  truth,  and  laid  his 
two  thousand  pounds  intact  down  on 
the  table.  "  Now  that  is  off  my 
stomach,"  said  he,  "  and  I  'm  a  man 
again." 

"  Ay,  and  I  '11  marry  you  next 
week,"  said  Nancy. 

"  Well,  gentlemen,"  said  old  Ward- 


FOUL  PLAY. 


243 


law,  "  my  course  seems  very  clear.  I 
will  undo  the  whole  transaction,  and 
return  you  your  money  less  the  pre- 
miums, but  plus  five  per  cent  interest." 
And  this  he  did  on  the  spot,  for  the 
fii'm  was  richer  than  ever. 

When  they  were  gone,  Robert  Pen- 
fold  came  in,  and  said,  "  I  hear,  sir, 
you  devote  this  day  to  repairing  the 
wrongs  done  by  your  firm  :  what  can 
you  do  for  me )  "  He  laid  a  copy  of 
Arthur's  confession  before  him. 

The  old  man  winced  a  moment 
where  he  sat,  and  tlie  iron  passed 
through  his  soul.  It  was  a  long  time 
before  he  could  speak.  At  last  he 
said,  "  This  wrong  is  irreparable,  I 
fear." 

Robert  said  nothing.  Sore  as  his 
own  heart  was,  he  was  not  the  one  to 
strilie  a  grand  old  man,  struggling  so 
bravely  against  dishonor. 

Wardlaw  senior  touched  his  hand- 
bell. 

"  Request  Mr.  Penfold  to  step  this 
way." 

Michael  Penfold  came. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  the  old  mer- 
chant, "  the  house  of  Wardlaw  exists 
no  more.  It  was  built  on  honesty, 
and  cannot  survive  a  fraud.  Ward- 
law  and  Son  were  partners  at  will.  I 
had  decided  to  dissolve  that  partner- 
ship, wind  up  the  accounts,  and  put 
up  the  shutters.  But  now,  if  you  like, 
I  will  value  the  eflPects,  and  hand  the 
business  over  to  Penfold  and  Son  on 
easy  terms.  Robert  Penfold  has  been 
accused  of  forging  John  Wardlaw's 
name  ;  to  prove  this  was  a  calumny,  I 
put  Penfold  over  my  door  instead  of 
Wardlaw.  The  city  of  London  will  un- 
derstand that,  gentlemen,  believe  me." 

"  Mr.  Wardlaw,"  said  Robert,  "  you 
are  a  just,  a  noble  —  "  He  could  say 
no  more. 

"  Ah,  sir,"  said  Michael,  "  if  the 
young  gentleman  had  only  been  like 
you ! " 

"  Mention  his  name  no  more  to  me. 
His  crime  and  his  punishment  have 
killed  me." 

"  O,"  said  Robert,  hastily,  "  he 
shall  not  be  punished  for  your  sake." 


"Not  be  punished  1  It  is  not  in 
your  hands  to  decide.  God  has  pun- 
ished him      He  is  insane." 

"  Good  Heavens  !  " 

"  Quite  mad ;  —  quite  mad.  Gen- 
tlemen, I  can  no  longer  support  this 
interview.  Send  me  your  solicitor's 
address ;  the  deeds  shall  be  prepared. 
I  wish  the  new  firm  success.  Probity 
is  the  road  to  it.     Good  day." 

He  wound  up  the  affairs,  had  his 
name  and  Arthur's  painted  out  at  his 
own  expense,  and  directed  the  paint- 
ers to  paint  the  Penfolds'  in  at  theirs  ; 
went  home  to  Elm-trees,  and  died  in 
three  days.  He  died  lamented  and 
honored,  and  Robert  Penfold  was 
much  affected.  He  got  it  into  his 
head  that  he  had  killed  him  with  Ar- 
thur's confession,  putting  it  before 
him  so  suddenly.  "  I  have  forgotten 
who  said  '  Vengeance  is  mine,'  "  said 
Robert  Penfold. 

The  merchant  priest  left  the  oflSce 
to  be  conducted  by  his  father ;  he 
used  the  credit  of  the  new  firm  to 
purchase  a  living  in  the  Vale  of  Kent ; 
and  thither  he  retired,  grateful  to 
Providence,  but  not  easy  in  his  con- 
science. He  now  accused  himself  of 
having  often  distrusted  God,  and  seen 
his  fellow-creatures  in  too  dark  a  light. 
He  turned  towards  religion  and  the 
care  of  souls. 

Past  suffering  enlightens  a  man, 
and  makes  him  tender;  and  people 
soon  began  to  walk  and  drive  con- 
siderable distances  to  hear  the  new 
vicar.  He  had  a  lake  with  a  pe- 
ninsula, the  shape  of  which  he  altered, 
at  a  great  expense,  as  soon  as  he 
came  there.  He  wrote  to  Helen 
every  day,  and  she  to  him.  Neither 
could  do  anything  con  amore  till  the 
post  came  in. 

One  afternoon  as  he  was  preaching 
with  great  unction,  he  saw  a  long 
puritanical  face  looking  up  at  him 
with  a  droll  expression  of  amazement 
and  half-irony.  The  stranger  called 
on  him,  and  began  at  once.  "  Wal, 
parson,  you  are  a  buster,  you  air. 
Xou  ginn  it  us  hot,  — you  did.  I  'm 
darned  if  I  ain't  kinder  ashamed  to 


244 


FOUL  PLAY. 


talk  of  this  ^vol•U^s  goods  to  a  gaint 
upon  airth  like  you.  But  I  never 
knowcd  a  parson  yet  as  could  n't  col- 
lar the  dollars." 

After  this  preamble  he  announced 
that  he  had  fjot  a  lease  of  the  island 
from  Chili,  dii";  a  lot  of  silver  plate 
out  of  the  galleon,  sold  ten  tons  of 
choice  coral,  and  a  siiip-load  of  cassia 
and  cocoa-nuts.  He  had  then  dis- 
posed of  his  lease  to  a  Californian 
company  for  a  large  sum.  And  his 
partner's  .sjiare  of  net  profits  came  to 
£17,247  1.3s.  Slid,  which  sum  he  had 
paid  to  Michael,  for  Robert,  Penfold 
in  drafts  on  Baring,  at  thirty  days 
after  sight. 

Robert  shook  his  hand,  and  thanked 
him  sincerely  for  his  abihty  ami 
probity.  He  stayed  that  night  at  the 
vicarage,  and  by  that  means  fell  in 
with  another  acquaintance.  General 
Rolleston  and  his  daughter  drove 
down  to  see  the  Parsonage.  Helen 
wanted  to  surprise  Robert ;  and,  as 
often  happens,  she  surprised  herself. 
She  made  him  show  her  everything  ; 
and  so  he  took  her  on  to  his  peninsula. 
Lo  !  the  edges  of  it  had  been  cut  and 
altered,  so  that  it  presented  a  minia- 
ture copy  of  Godsend  Island. 

As  soon  as  she  saw  this,  Helen 
turned  round  with  a  sudden  cry  of 
love,  "  O  Robert ! "  and  the  lovers 
were  in  each  other's  arms. 

"  What  could  any  other  man  ever 
be  to  me  ?  " 

"  And  what  could  any  other  wom.m 
ever  be  to  me  ?  " 

They  knew  that  before.  But  this 
miniature  island  made  them  speak 
out  and  say  it.  The  wedding-day 
was  fixed  before  she  left. 

Her  Majesty  pardoned  this  scholar, 
hero,  and  worthy,  the  crime  he  had 
never  committed. 

Nancy  Rouse  took  the  penitent 
Wylie  Vvithout  the  £  2,000.  But  old 
Penfold,  who  knew  tlie  wliolc  story, 
lent  the  money  at  three  per  cent ;  so 
the  Wylies  pay  a  ground-rent  of  X  60 
a  year  for  a  pro])erty  whieli,  by  Mrs. 
Wyjic's  industry  and  judgment,  is 
worth  at  least  X400.     She  pays  this 


very  cheerfully,  and  appeals  to  Joe 
whether  that  is  not  better  than  the 
other  way. 

"  Why,  Joe,"  says  she,  "  to  a  wo- 
man like  me,  that 's  afoot  all  day,  't  is 
worth  sixty  pounds  a  year  to  be  a 
good  sleeper  ;  and  I  should  n't  be 
that  if  I  had  wronged  my  neigh- 
bor." 

Arthur  Wardlaw  is  in  a  private  lu- 
natic asylum, and  is  taken  great  care  of. 
In  his  lucid  intiTvals  he  sutlers  hor- 
rible distress  of  mind;  but,  though 
sad  to  see,  these  agonies  furnish  the 
one  hope  of  his  ultimate  recovery. 
When  not  troubled  by  these  returns 
of  reason,  he  is  contented  enough. 
His  favorite  em])loyment  is  to  get  Mr. 
LIndcrclirt"s  f'ac-siniiles,  and  to  write 
love-letters  to  Helen  Rolleston  which 
are  duly  deposited  in  the  post-office  of 
the  esfuhlishmait.  These  letters  are  in 
the  handwriting  of  Charles  I.,  Parli, 
Lord  Bacf)n,  Alexander  Pope,  Lord 
Chesterfield,  Nelson,  Lord  Shaftes- 
bury, Addison,  the  late  Duke  of 
Wellington,  and  so  on.  And,  strange 
to  say,  the  Greek  e  never  ajijiears  in 
any  of  them.  They  are  admirably 
like,  though,  of  course,  the  matter  is 
not  always  equally  consistent  with  the 
characters  of  those  personages. 

Helen  Rolleston  nmrricd  Robert 
Penfold.  On  the  wedding-day,  the 
presents  were  laid  out,  and  amongst 
them  there  was  a  silver  box  incrusted 
with  coral.  Female  curiosity  de- 
manded that  this  box  should  be 
opened.  Helen  objected,  but  her 
bridesmaids  rebelled  ;  the  whole  com- 
pany sided  with  them,  and  Robert 
smiled  a  careless  assent.  A  black- 
smith and  carpenter  were  both  en- 
listed, and  with  infinite  difficulty  the 
poor  box  was  riven  o])en. 

Inside  was  another  box,  locked,  but 
with  no  key.  That  was  ojiened  with 
coniijarative  ease,  and  then  handed  to 
tlie  bride.  It  continued  nothing  but 
Pa])al  indulgences  and  rough  stones, 
and  fair  throats  were  opened  in  some 
disap])()intment. 

A  lady,  lu>wever,  of  more  expe- 
rience, examined  the   contents,  and 


FOUL  PLAY. 


245 


said,  that,  in  her  opinion,  many  of 
them  were  uncut  gems  of  great  price  ; 
tliere  were  certainly  a  quantity  of  jas- 
pers and  bloodstones,  and  others  of 
no  value  at  all.  "But  look  at  these 
two  pearl-shaped  diamonds,"  said  she  ; 
"  wliy,  they  are  a  little  I'ortune  !  and 
Oh  ! "  The  stone  that  struck  this 
fair  creature  dumb  was  a  rough  ruby 
as  big  as  a  blackbird's  egg,  and  of 
amazing  depth  and  fire.  "  Ko  lady  in 
England,"  said  she,  "  has  a  ruby  to 
compare  with  this." 

The  information  proved  correct. 
The  box  furnished  Helen  with  dia- 
monds and  emeralds  of  great  thickness 


and  quality.  But  the  huge  ruby 
placed  her  on  a  level  with  sovereigns. 
She  wears  it  now  and  then  in  Lon- 
don, but  not  often.  It  attracts  too 
much  attention,  blazing  on  her  fair 
forehead  like  a  star,  and  eclipses  ev- 
erything. 

Well,  what  her  niby  is  amongst 
stones  she  is  amongst  wives.  And  he 
is  worthy  of  her.  Thi'ough  much  in- 
justice, suiFering,  danger,  and  trouble, 
they  have  passed  to  health,  happiness, 
and  peace,  and  that  entire  union  of 
two  noble  hearts,  in  loyal  friendship 
and  M'edded  love,  which  is  the  truest 
bliss  this  earth  affords. 


THE  END. 


Cambridge  :  Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  Welch,  Higelow,  &  Co. 


